Sacrifices
by Silwyna
Summary: Dean's deal is coming to an end, causing Sam to take drastic measures to save his brother. Written for a challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I'm in no way related to the TV show Supernatural. It's characters (sadly) do not belong to me. I'm not making any profit with this story. **

**A.N: I wrote this story for a challenge about Dean's deal and Evil or NotEvil Sam. I hope you like what I made out of that :) **

**A huge thanks to Kaz for beta reading. All mistakes are mine. **

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**Sacrifices**

**by Silwyna**

"Dude, that was good." Dean grinned as he sat down on the bed. With a satisfied smile, he emptied the beer bottle that Sam had gotten him before they had left the diner.

He and Sam were staying in the Seventh Heaven Motel in Chippawa Falls, Wisconsin – the last motel Dean would stay in. When he had read the name, he had immediately declared that they would stay the night.

"Yes, it was good." Sam replied. "Best fries I ever had."

He didn't sound very convincing.

"Perfect last meal." Dean winked.

Sam remained silent.

"Aren't you gonna sit down? Or are you …" A yawn stopped Dean from continuing. "Man, I'm tired. Dead tired." He joked. Even with only a few hours left, Dean tried to make fun of the situation. It was easier that way. He wasn't going to get down while contemplating all the things he hadn't had the chance to do in his life.

Like going to Mexico.

Or seeing the Grand Canyon.

Or watching Led Zeppelin live on stage.

Or finding a place that he could call home. Even though he had the Impala, it wasn't the same. He would've liked to have a simple place like Bobby's. Something that he and Sam could return to between hunts. And maybe someone there, waiting for him to come home, once Sam had left him to persue his own career, live his own life. The life that he deserved.

No, Dean wouldn't think of all that. What was the point?

"You look tired." Sam said quietly, standing almost motionless in the middle of the room.

"I can sleep when I'm dead." Dean grinned, his words followed by another yawn. Maybe he shouldn't have had that last beer.

Or maybe he needed one more. One more to get rid of the panic that was bubbling under the surface.

Only six more hours.

It wasn't enough.

Dean spotted another six-pack on the table and rose to get a new bottle. But the moment he stood upright, he was hit by a wave of dizziness; the world tilted and he stumbled to the side. His legs gave way and he fell on his knees, the bed beside him the only thing that kept him upright.

Dean looked up at his brother and the panic he had tried to hide all day, _all year_, was clearly visible in his eyes now.

It was too early!

And where the hell were the hound dogs?

"Sam, something's wrong." He pressed out between breaths.

"It's okay, Dean." Sam said, his tone soothing and comforting. Except for the slight tremble in his voice.

The younger Winchester knelt down in front of his brother, a steady hand on Dean's shoulder stopping him from falling over.

"Sam?" Dean looked up at his brother; it took his confused mind a moment before he understood what he was seeing in Sam's eyes. And the moment that realization hit him, his panic multiplied a hundred fold. "No. Sam, what have you done?"

"Just let go, Dean, it's okay. I love you, bro." Sam swallowed thickly. "Thanks for everything." He bent forward and tenderly kissed his brother on the forehead, before moving away and causing Dean to fall forward onto the motel carpet.

"No …" Dean muttered, using his arms to break his fall, one arm reaching up towards Sam, trying to stop him, to hold on to him, to keep him from leaving him. "Wha..what have you…" His last words died on his lips as the sleeping pill that Sam had dropped into his beer earlier made its presence felt and slowly his world turned dark.

Sam stood still as he watched his brother slip into unconsciousness. He saw his resistance fail in the slow movements of his body. A wave of guilt washed over him when he saw how Dean's eyes closed and his breathing relaxed with a sigh as he slumped onto the floor.

His brother's image swam before him as tears welled up in his eyes. This was it. He had no other choice left.

Sam cast a last glance at his brother before he turned around and left, closing the door behind him and stepping away from the one person he loved more than life.

XXXXXXX

With a start, Dean awoke, immediately knowing that something was wrong. His eyes scanned the room, looking for his brother, the one constant in his life, the one person that would always be at his side – not counting those four missing years he had lost Sam to normalcy, to safety.

"Sam?" Dean's head jerked up when he found the room empty. He immediately regretted the motion as the worst of all killer headaches attacked his head. Black dots were dancing in front of his eyes and with a groan, Dean leant back onto the bed.

A few moments later, he dared to try again and slowly raised himself up until he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sam?" He called again, hoping against hope that his brother was only in the bathroom. "Sammy?"

And then it all came back.

The dizziness. The realization that Sam had done something stupid. That he had said goodbye.

With a haunted look, Dean grabbed his cell phone that lay on the nightstand next to his bed and hit the number for Sam's phone. After the eighth ring the voicemail sprang on.

"Sam, where the hell are you?" Dean yelled into the phone. "Pick up the damn phone and come back here!"

He ended the call and waited a few moments for his phone to ring. Two minutes later, he called again. And again the voicemail answered.

"Sam, I swear I'll come back and haunt your sorry ass until the end of days. Pick up your freakin' phone and call me!"

He tried three more times and every time he left a message for Sam, he sounded more frantic and panicked.

What the hell had his stupid kid brother done now?

In that moment the first sunbeams fell into the room. Dean blinked as they blinded his eyes.

Then he froze.

The day before he had watched the sun go down, knowing that it would be the last time he would see it. Ever! His eyes fell on the clock on the wall and when he read the time, they widened in horror.

He should have died over two hours ago. He should be in hell.

He speed dialed Sam's number again and hoped, _prayed_, that his own personal hell hadn't just come true.

XXXXXXX

_Four hours earlier_

Sam stood in the middle of the room, a magic circle drew around where he stood. He had everything he needed. Nine candles, consisting of human fat – hard to get these days, but Bela had helped him out with that. Incenses, mixed together on a plate, ready to be burned. The athame, lying next to the cup that would be filled with his blood. And two seals with the demon's name, Tamiel, engraved on it, one in his hand and one lying in the middle of the Devil's Trap Sam had drew a few feet away from his position.

He was scared of what he was about to do. But also determined.

He wouldn't let Dean die for him.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the athame and sliced his wrists open. He didn't feel any pain as he watched his blood slowly fill the cup.

There was no way back now.

"Excito te potentem maximumque spiritum… " He began reading the summoning spell. His left hand held the seal tightly; with the right hand he pulled out the Colt – another "gift" from Bela. She had asked a lot for it, but that hadn't surprised him. He was just glad that whatever he had to give was enough to satisfy her. He wasn't sure what he would have done had she refused.

He had just finished the conjuration spell, when the lights in the room flickered; a moment later a young man appeared before Sam. As planned, the seal had brought him right into the middle of the Devil's Trap.

"Sam Winchester, now why am I not surprised to see you." The man – Tamiel – said.

"Let my brother out of the deal." Sam said coldly, coming right down to business. He tightened his grip around the Colt; he could already feel the blood loss starting to take its toll.

"Sure, why not." Tamiel grinned. "And what do you have to offer in order for me to let go of your brother?"

"You're life."

The demon laughed loudly at Sam's remark. "Oh really? Well, now I'm scared." He smirked.

Sam raised the Colt and pointed it directly at the demon.

"You want me to kill with this?" Tamiel laughed again; a cold, evil laughter. "Just because you managed to conquer Azazel, don't think you can go up against me. Least of all with that." He waved dismissively at the gun in Sam's hand.

"You think you're better than Azazel?" Sam swallowed. "Let's find out."

His finger tightened around the trigger; he was ready to shoot the moment it became necessary.

"You're willing to sacrifice your soul for your bother, Sammy boy?" Tamiel asked.

"No more deals. You let Dean go and you get to live. Or I kill you now and Dean gets to live as well. I win either way." Sam forced himself to smile; he needed to appear confident to pull this off. "What's it going to be?"

"Kill me then." Tamiel smirked.

Sam only hesitated a second. He pulled the trigger and the demon fell to the ground immediately. Sam stared at the motionless body in shock, waiting for any sign of movement.

It never came.

A sudden shiver spread though his body and both the gun and seal fell to the ground. Sam sank down on his knees and stared at the demon for a long moment.

He'd done it. He had found the demon who had held Dean's contract and he had killed him.

Too easy. This had been too easy.

The words kept replaying in Sam's mind, but he pushed them away. The demon was dead and Dean would live. That was all that mattered.

With shivering hands, Sam pulled out some gauze from his bag that lay just outside of the circle he was in. Black dots were starting to appear in front of his eyes and the world spun around him, but he managed to bandage his slit wrists before unconsciousness claimed him.

A few hours later the repeated ringing of his cell phone brought Sam back to awareness.

XXXXXXX

Dean had stopped counting how many times he had tried to reach Sam. As soon as his mind had cleared enough, he had jumped into the Impala and had started searching the area for his missing brother.

Sam hadn't taken the Impala, so Dean figured that he couldn't have gone far. Unless he had stolen a car, which was something Sam hated to do; but he had done it in the past when he saw no other way.

Dean hated it when Sam went up against his principles.

He hit the number for Sam's phone again, expecting to hear the voicemail spring on. Instead he heard his brother's voice after the fourth ring.

"You never give up, do you?" Sam asked.

It were the most beautiful words Dean had heard in his life.

"Sam, where the hell are you?" He barked.

There was a long pause on the phone and Dean was starting to fear that he had only imagined Sam answering his call. Maybe he was losing his mind?

"Green Bay." The whispered reply came after a moment.

"Green Bay? What the hell are you doing in Green Bay?" Dean yelled, already turning the Impala and trying to figure out the fastest way to get to his brother.

"What time is it?" Sam asked instead of giving an answer.

And Dean suddenly noticed how weak and slurred his brother's voice sounded.

"Around 8 am. Sammy, what did you do?" Dean inquired, his worry spiked by the condition his brother seemed to be in.

"It worked." Sam replied weakly.

Dean could practically hear him smiling through the phone and it irritated him immensely. "What worked?"

"I killed the demon, Dean. Tamiel. He …" He paused and Dean could hear deep breaths through the phone as if his brother was trying to catch his breath. "He's the one who held your contract."

Dean was stunned. "When did you find that out?"

"A few weeks ago." Sam's reply was hardly audible anymore.

Dean had to force his voice to sound steady and not betray the worry he was feeling. "How did you do it?"

"The Colt … I met up with … with Bela. She sold it … sold it to me." Sam slurred.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean finally asked the question that burned on his mind.

"Sorry, Dean, I …" His voice trailed off .

Through the phone, Dean heard a thump, the clatter of Sam's phone and then nothing but silence.

"Sam? Sam!" He yelled. "Come on, Sammy, answer me! Where exactly are you? SAM!"

"76 Webster Road." Sam replied weakly after a moment.

Dean let out a relieved breath. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"S'okay, Dean. I … I made it right."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, afraid of the answer.

"What's dead … should stay dead."

Dean shook his head in despair. "No, Sammy, that's … that's bullshit. You …" Tears were brimming in his eyes when he realized that his brother was most likely dying at this very moment. And there was nothing he could do to prevent it. "Just hang on, okay? I'm on my way. It'll be all right."

"I love you, Dean."

"No, Sam! SAM!"

His brother never replied.

"SAMMY!"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.: Thanks to KAZ2Y567i for beta reading. And thank you all for your wonderful feedback. You guys are awesome :)  
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The phone fell out of Sam's limp hand. The younger Winchester struggled to stay awake, but he knew that he was losing the fight. He could hear Dean screaming his name through the phone, but he was too weak to reply anymore.

He knew he was dying; Dean wouldn't make it here in time. Green Bay was almost two hours away from Chippawa Falls; he wouldn't last that long.

But it hadn't been for nothing. Dean was alive. The demon who had held his contract was dead and Dean would live. And he wouldn't have to be afraid to turn evil anymore.

It had been worth it.

He just hoped that his brother would take this second chance of life and not waste it with self-blaming and generally destroying himself. He knew this wouldn't be easy for Dean; he had witnessed first hand what his father's death had done to his brother and he had experienced himself how it felt to have your life traded for the life of the person you loved the most.

He hoped that Dean would realize that he was doing this for him, so that he'd get to live – really live.

His eyes were almost closed, when Sam suddenly heard a voice coming from the other side of the room. He used all his willpower to raise his head to see what was going on; his eyes widened in horror when he saw Tamiel standing upright in the Devil's Trap and looking at him with cold, dark eyes.

„Spiritus in mundus un glorum suarum umitite palatum iram domine ..." Tamiel kept on reciting and Sam froze when he recognized the spell.

A moment later the floor beneath him started to shake; it got worse the longer Tamiel spoke. Horrified, Sam watched the Devil's Trap, praying that it would hold.

He didn't understand what was happening. Tamiel should have been dead. He had used the Colt on him. And Dean was still alive. The deal was off. Tamiel had to be dead.

And yet, here he was, standing right in front of him, repeating his spell over and over again. And then the circle, that had kept him trapped, broke and with an amused smile, Tamiel stepped out of it and walked up to Sam.

"You didn't really think this thing would kill me, did you?" He laughed. "You got fooled big time, Sammy Boy. This Colt is by far the one you used to end Azazel. Thanks for that, by the way." He grinned.

Sam stared at him in horror. His mind reeled - the Colt was a fake. Bela had tricked him. Again!

But with this? And why was Dean still alive?

"The deal …" He pressed out, his voice hardly audible.

Tamiel's smile widened. "Oh, it's much more fun having good ol' Dean watching what his brother has turned into. I just love to torture people with their biggest weaknesses." He laughed coldly.

Sam looked at him confused. He tried to understand what his words meant, but he felt too weak by now to get a single clear thought.

"You'll understand soon enough, Sammy Boy." Tamiel smiled. "I have waited so long for this. You're strong, stronger then when Limantha possessed you. That's Meg for you, in case you were wondering." He added grinning.

He knelt down in front of Sam and yanked him around until he lay on his back. The demon had used so much force with this one move, that all air was pressed out of Sam's lungs when he hit the ground. He gasped for air as once more black dots started dancing in front of his eyes.

"Don't worry, you won't die just yet. I still need you. Or better …" He smiled mischievously. "… I need your body. And of course the powers that go along with it."

Sam shivered, but he was too weak to do anything to escape Tamiel. The demon ripped open Sam's shirt and then grabbed the athame that Sam had used to slit his wrists. With one small cut, Tamiel destroyed the protection symbol that Sam had tattooed on his chest.

"And so it starts …" Tamiel looked down at the younger Winchester with an evil grin.

He threw his head back and opened his mouth, a black cloud escaping his body – it went straight into Sam's body who was unable to do anything against it.

XXXXXXX

With screeching tires, the Impala stopped in front of 76 Webster Road. It was an empty apartment building that had seen its best days a few decades ago. Dean jumped out of the car and sped up to the house, yanking the door open and storming inside. Running up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, he kept shouting his brother's name.

It didn't take him long to find the right room – the scent of candles and incense became stronger the closer he got.

"Sam!" Dean shouted as he used his right leg to kick in the door. As soon as he stepped inside, he saw the Devil's Trap painted on the ground. He stopped dead in his tracks when he also saw a young man lying unconsciously on the floor – it wasn't Sam, but the younger Winchester was nowhere else to be found either.

"Sam?!" Dean called again. He searched the small apartment for his brother, but without result.

After a moment, he knelt down next to the young man to check his pulse. He was still alive and seemed not to have any serious injuries; needing answers, Dean decided to throw away all patience and started shaking the man until a moan told him that he was coming around.

"Come on, wake up, man." Dean muttered impatiently. "SAM!" He called again, not really sure why he bothered because obviously Sam couldn't hear him. But he simply could not _not_ try.

"Dude, stop screaming." The man on the floor groaned. He rolled to his side and a moment later, his eyes opened and he looked at Dean confused. "Who are you?" He asked weakly.

"I'm the man with the gun." Dean replied matter of factly. Without hesitating, he pulled out his Glock 9mm and pointed it at the young man. "Who are you?"

The man's eyes widened in fear and he tried to crawl back from Dean; he stopped immediately when the older Winchester held his gun closer to his face.

"Who.Are.You?" Dean asked again, making it clear that he wasn't going to ask again.

"Ma-Mathew." The man stuttered. "Matthew MacDougall. What did you do to me?"

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, not bothering with giving Matthew MacDougall an answer.

Matthew looked around and appeared to be even more confused than before. "I don't even know where I am, man. What's going on here?"

Dean swallowed. "How'd you get here?"

Now it was Matthew who was starting to look annoyed – despite the gun being pointed at his face. "Dude, aren't you listening? I don't know where I am!"

Dean took a few deep breaths, suppressing the urge to punch the guy before him. "Have you seen anyone else in here?"

"You mean beside a lunatic pointing a gun at me?" He cocked an eyebrow at Dean. "No."

Not able to hide his frustration, Dean lowered the gun. Then he pulled out a wallet, in which he always kept a photo of his family. It wasn't up to date – Pastor Jim had taken it a few months before Sam had left for Stanford – but it was all Dean had at the moment.

"Do you know this man? He's older now, 25 years. His hair is a bit longer too. Big guy, about 6'4."

"No …" Matthew shook his head. "Never seen him." He looked at Dean in distrust. "So, can I go now?"

"In a moment. What's the last thing you remember?" Dean asked.

"What?"

"The last thing before you woke up here. What do you remember?"

"I … I was …" He frowned and a scared look crossed his face. "Oh god, I …"

"Are there strange images running through your head right now?" Dean sighed.

"Yeah, it's … it's like from a horror movie. This is a nightmare, isn't it?" He clapped his face. "Of course it is. I'm asleep." He laughed relieved. "It's just a stupid nightmare."

"It's not a nightmare, believe me, I wish it were." Dean let out an exasperated sigh. "I think you've been possessed."

Matthew looked at him as if he had lost his might. "Come again?"

Dean suddenly froze at his own words. He looked again at the Devil's trap and the second magic circle in front of which Matthew had been lying. The candles, the athame … and then he saw the cup filled with blood. A lot of blood.

"Shit, Sammy, what did you do?" He mumbled. He looked down at Matthew. "And what happened with the demon?"

XXXXXXX

"Are you sure?" Bobby asked, the worry evident in his voice.

"Yes." Dean swallowed. "It's the only explanation I can come up with. Unless …" His voice trailed off and he looked helplessly at the older man. Thinking of Sam being possessed – again – was hard enough, but the other option .. the only other option he could think of – the thought alone was unbearable.

"Unless Sam killed the demon and turned evil in the process." Bobby finished for him. Saying it out loud was hard for him too. He had known the two boys since they were little kids, Sam had still been a baby when he had met the Winchesters for the first time. Even though he had fought hard against it at first, the two boys had taken a place in his heart from the beginning. Dean with his big sad eyes, taking care of his little brother and forgetting about himself in the process. And Sam who just had to look at you for you to crumble and give into his wishes. He had been a sweet child, different than Dean because he hadn't seen the horrors yet his older brother had witnessed the night their mother died. He was open to everyone, always smiling and laughing and talking, asking one question after the next; it had driven him crazy at times, but it made him love the kid even more. And to think that now …

"Dad said I might have to kill him." Dean whispered.

"What?" Bobby stared at him in confusion.

"Before he … before he died, Dad said that I had to watch out for Sammy, that I had to save him and if I couldn't .. I had to kill him." Dean spoke quietly, his voice filled with pain. Even after two years it hurt like hell to say those words out loud. To even think that … he didn't think he'd be strong enough to do that.

He failed his father, he failed his brother - the people that meant most to him and he not only lost them, he let them down. The one thing that his father had asked of him before his death, the one thing Sam had begged him to do - and he couldn't do it.

"We'll save him." Bobby said, putting as much determination in his voice as possible. He couldn't bare the pain reflected on the young man's face before him.

This wasn't fair, none of it was. When Dean had called him, hours after his supposed death – a death Bobby had tried to forget for that night by drowning any thought of it in alcohol – he had been filled with joy for a moment. Only one short moment until he had recognized the pain in Dean's voice and the realization had hit him that Sam must have done something stupid.

He shook his head in frustration. What was it with those Winchesters that they were willing to sacrifice their lives for each other? Would that never stop? And what would happen to Dean if they weren't able to save Sam? If they had to kill him … would Dean survive that?

Bobby pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He wouldn't waste time thinking like that. They would find Sam and they would save him – there simply wasn't another option.

"You have any idea where to start looking for him?" He asked.

Dean shook his head. "Not really. The last time he went after hunters, but that doesn't mean it will be the same again."

"Show me that seal again." Bobby said.

He took the seal from Dean who had collected all items from the old apartment building that were in any way connected to Sam. Taking the cup filled with his brother's blood had been the worst part. He had had the irrational fear that if he lost even one drop of it, he'd never see Sam again.

"Tamiel …" Bobby said thoughtfully. He took off his cap and scratched his head while thinking. "It's been said that he was one of the leaders of the Grigori, just like Azazel."

"Grigori, that's the fallen angels, right?" Dean asked.

"Yes, there were 200 hundred of them, but only a few really stood out – the so called prefects or leader if you want to. Azazel and Tamiel were among them and they were always supposed to be rivals." Bobby explained.

"So Tamiel wasn't exactly angry when we killed yellow-eyes."

"Probably not." Bobby sighed. None of this was really helping them.

"So what does Tamiel want with Sam? Wouldn't he be his rival too? Being one of Azazel's _special children_?" Dean nearly spat the last two words out; he hated that phrase, especially in regard to Sam.

Bobby placed the seal back on the table and fetched a book from a nearby shelf – it lay right on top of several other books as it had become his standard compendium whenever the yellow eyed demon was involved. He opened one of the pages – bookmarked with a dog-ear – and turned the book so that Dean could read it too.

"Here's one entry about the Grigori …" He said carefully. "It says that they liked to mate with mortal women, and hence giving rise to a race of hybrids."

"What are you saying?" Dean asked frowning.

"I'm not saying anything, I'm just repeating what it says in here." Bobby held up his hands in defense. He had had the same discussion with John once – it hadn't ended well.

"That yellow eyed bastard isn't Sam's father, if that's what you're implying. John Winchester is his … _our_ father!" Dean exclaimed agitated.

"Dean …"

"No …" Dean jumped up from the chair which toppled over in the process and shook his head in frustration. "I'm sick of all this. I don't want to hear any more of this special children talk. Sam isn't some kind of hybrid, he's my _brother. _His parents are John and Mary Winchester and he is 100 percent human! There's no doubt of that."

"Of course there isn't." Bobby relented. "Now sit back down and let's try to figure out how we can find your brother. All right?"

"All right." Dean nodded after a moment of hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the chair from the ground and sat down. "Where do we start?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. :) And a big thanks to Kaz for beta reading. All mistakes are mine.**

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Finding Sam proved more difficult than both Bobby and Dean had thought. For almost three months now they were following Sam's track. It hadn't been difficult to find out where he was going. The only problem was getting there in time.

Sam was gathering the demons to him. Wherever a demon sighting was reported, their sources also spoke about a new power appearing out of nowhere. Bobby had called all his contacts to let him know about any incidents that might relate to demons. They had received lots of calls over the weeks, leading them to Sam.

But they were always too late. By the time they arrived at the place they believed Sam to be, he had already left again. He was always one step ahead of them, and it was driving Dean crazy. He needed Sam to be back. Back at his side, riding shotgun in the Impala. Back to being the old Sam.

He needed his brother to come back to him.

XXXXX

One of the calls from Bobby's friends had lead them to Medina, Ohio.

It was still early in the morning, when Dean and Bobby were sitting in the Impala in front of an old farmhouse, belonging to the Miller family. They had talked to a few people from a small town nearby who had told them about the strange behavior of the family's 16 year old son. Everything pointed towards demonic possession. And lately, when there was a demon causing trouble, Sam wasn't too far away.

"We can't be too late again." Dean looked imploringly at the older man.

Bobby nodded. He might not be related to the Winchesters by blood, but these boys meant the world to him. And Dean was right. They had been too late too many times, always arriving just in time to witness the aftereffects of Sam's – no, of Tamiel's killings.

Both men still clung to the hope that this wasn't really Sam. That he was possessed and that all this was the demon's doing.

But they had no proof. They still didn't know what exactly had happened in the apartment building. Sam had called a demon, that much was for sure. And then? The last few weeks Dean and Bobby had pondered over that question in silence. Had the demon escaped the Devil's Trap and possessed Sam? Or had Sam killed him by using his psychic powers? And had that changed him? Like it had Jake and Ava?

Was it too late to save him?

They didn't speak about this out loud. Officially and for everyone else, Sam was possessed. A victim that needed to be saved.

Thinking of Sam as a victim was another thing Dean hated.

"Let's go." Bobby said, determinedly opening the Impala's passenger door. They wouldn't be late this time.

XXXXXXX

When Dean and Bobby entered the house, guns raised and ready to take on everything that would stand in their way, both men wished that just this one more time they had been late again.

They had found Sam.

He was standing in the middle of the family's living room, his hand around a woman's neck. Her face was ashen and her arms hung loosely at her side. Her eyes stared lifelessly at the man who had killed her. A few feet away, the bodies of an elderly couple lay on the ground. Their bodies were beaten and covered with deep cuts; the man's eyes looked like they had exploded from the inside. Walls and furniture were covered with blood.

Dean stood frozen in the doorway, his gun pointed at his brother but unable to do anything. He just stared at Sam, not knowing what to do.

"Let go of her!" Bobby's hoarse voice rang through the silence of the room. He was as shocked as Dean at what he saw – he had expected a lot, but not this, _not this_ – but the seasoned hunter was fast in regaining his composure.

Sam's head snapped around to the two men and a cold laugh escaped his mouth.

_That's not Sam's laughter_, Dean thought, still staring in shock at that thing that looked like his brother.

"About time you two caught up with me. I was starting to get bored of watching you always being one step behind." Sam smiled viciously. He loosened his grip of the woman and threw her dead body across the room. It landed next to her dead husband who lay on the floor in a pool of blood, his arms still protectively slung around a young girl. She was dead as well.

„Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis ..." Bobby started chanting the exorcism spell to get rid of the demon that was possessing Sam. „ ...adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica ..."

Sam laughed out loud. "Oh come on, you don't really expect this to work, do you?"

"You're not Sam." Dean breathed out between clenched teeth. He had finally regained his composure and pointed his gun at his brother with determination. He wouldn't kill him (_this was still Sam!_), but he could hurt him. A lot.

"…cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare ..."

„You sure about that?" Sam cocked an eyebrow at Dean. "How much are you willing to risk to see if you're right?"

"Get out of my brother!" Dean barked. He stared into Sam's brown eyes, waiting desperately for them to turn black.

They never did.

"…humiliare sub potenti manu Dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine ..."

Sam's head snapped around to Bobby and the amused smile on his lips turned into an annoyed frown. "Why don't you just shut the hell up?!" He yelled.

He narrowed his eyes at Bobby. In an instant the older man was thrown through the air until his back hit the solid wall on the other side of the room. Unconscious, Bobby sank down on the floor.

"There, that's better." Sam stated satisfied, turning his attention back to Dean.

"You son of a b…" Dean cursed out loud as he saw his friend lying on the ground.

"This is your mother you're talking about, big brother." Sam mocked him.

"I'm not your brother." Dean hissed.

Sam placed his hand over his heart in played hurt. "Ouch." His lips turned into an evil grin. "Now … this is getting boring. Don't you agree?"

"Let Sam go." Dean tried again. He didn't know what else to do. The exorcism hadn't worked – and so far he refused to think about what that meant – and he couldn't just go ahead and shoot Sam. It might slow him down, but it wouldn't stop him. Right now, pleading was really all he had left.

"Oh Dean, you don't get it, do you? I. Am. Sam. I'm your brother." Sam smirked. "You know, Jake and Ava … they were so right. Once you give in to all these powers inside you, you see the world in a completely new perspective. Everything is so … so clear now." He took a deep breath as if inhaling all these new things in his life. "I wasted so much time …"

"No …" Dean shook his head. "No, this isn't you."

"How much more proof do you need, bro?" Sam asked, his voice starting to sound impatient.

"You'll never convince me. Sam would never …" He swallowed as he looked at all the dead people in the room. "He would never do this."

"The old Sam wouldn't. But the new Sam …" His grin widened. "… is able to do so much more. Wanna see?"

"Sam …" Dean's words caught in his mouth when he saw Bobby being lifted up in the air until he was hanging under the ceiling. "What are you doing?" He choked out.

"Having a little bit of fun." Sam grinned.

Before Dean could do anything, flames started to erupt around Bobby. Within moments, his whole body was on fire.

"NO!" Dean screamed. A moment later he felt himself flying through the room as well. His head connected with something hard and the world turned black; his friend burning on the ceiling and the knowledge that he couldn't save his brother anymore being the last thing on his mind.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N.: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. And a huge thanks to Kaz for her patience and wonderful beta'ing :o)**

* * *

_Dean was standing in a wide room. Everything was gray - walls, ground, ceiling. _

_There were no windows, only a light coming from above._

_He could hear a child crying from somewhere close. _

"_Who's there?" He called out loud. _

_He didn't get an answer._

_He pivoted, scanning his surroundings, when his eyes fell upon a small boy sitting hunched over in a corner. His knees were pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, his face buried. Slowly he was rocking back and forth._

"_You okay?" Dean asked as he slowly walked closer to the boy. "Hey, what's your name?" _

_He knelt down next to the child and carefully put a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, the boy's head snapped up and he backed away from __Dean; his eyes were filled with pure fear__ and horror. _

_Dean immediately recognized him – it was an 8 year old version of his brother._

"_Sammy …" _

Coughing and screaming out his brother's name, Dean returned to the waking world. He was immediately on alert as he felt hands holding him down. His eyes snapped open and to his surprise he stared at the worried face of Bobby Singer.

"Good to see you awake." The older man breathed out, relief flashing through his eyes.

All Dean saw was the image of his old friend, pinned to the ceiling and burning to death.

He pulled his arms free and scrambled back from the other man, his hand immediately going for his gun; the second he had pulled it out, he pointed it straight at Bobby.

"Whoa, easy there, son." Bobby held his hands up in defense. "What's wrong with you?"

"Who are you?" Dean hissed, trying to suppress the utter despair welling up inside of him.

_Bobby was dead. Sam was evil. _

_There was no one left but him. _

"You must have hit your head worse than I thought." Bobby growled. "Do you know your name?"

"What?" Dean stared at him in utter confusion.

"Your name. If you don't remember me, then …" He shrugged.

"I know who I am." Dean snapped. Searching, his eyes fell on the wall behind the man kneeling in front of him. It was still full of blood. As was the ground and the furniture and all the other walls in the room. Forcing himself to remain calm, Dean's eye went to the ceiling – it was empty and definitely not burned. "What the …"

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Bobby asked worried, holding two fingers in front of Dean's face.

The younger man turned his attention back to him and after a moment, he lowered his gun. "I thought you were dead." He swallowed. It took all his willpower to not pull Bobby into a tight hug.

"That's what I thought when I saw you lying here. What happened? And where's Sam?" Bobby asked, relieved that Dean seemed to be back to his senses.

At the mention of his brother, Dean's eyes scanned the room again in a panic. Sam was nowhere to be seen. He closed his eyes for a moment to push back the fear for his brother. Instead he once again saw Bobby burning on the ceiling.

"He mind-tricked me." Dean muttered.

"What?"

Dean opened his eyes again and looked at the older man in despair. "He made me believe that he killed you by letting you burn to death on the ceiling."

His words were spoken in a whisper and Bobby immediately understood. He nodded and a wave of sympathy for the younger man washed over him. Dean looked like he was on the verge of a break down and Bobby wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"Sam knows how to hurt you the most." He said quietly.

Dean nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. "What are we going to do now?"

"We find Sam and we end this." Bobby replied, his voice steady even though every fiber in him screamed that they couldn't do this. This was Sam!

But he had to remind himself from now on that this wasn't the Sam anymore that they knew and loved. That Sam was gone. And they wouldn't get him back.

"The exorcism didn't work." Dean said in a shaky voice.

"I know."

Nodding, Dean put his gun back in his waistband and got up. "Let's find him then."

XXXXXXX

_He was standing in a wide room. Everything was dark gray - walls, ground, ceiling. _

_There were no windows, only a dim light coming from above._

_He could hear a child crying from somewhere close. _

"_Who's there?" He called out loud. _

_He didn't get an answer._

_He pivoted, scanning his surroundings, when his eyes fell upon a small boy sitting hunched over in a corner. His knees were pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, his face buried. Slowly he was rocking back and forth.. _

"_You okay?" Dean asked as he slowly walked closer to the boy. "Hey, what's your name?" _

_He knelt down next to the child and carefully put a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, the boy's head snapped up and he backed away from Dean__; his eyes were filled with pure fear__ and horror. _

_Dean immediately recognized him – it was an 8 year old version of his brother._

"_Sammy …" _

With a start, Dean woke up. Disorientated, he looked around the room. It took him a moment to recognize where he was. He was back in their motel room. Which one he didn't know, its name being an information that wasn't important enough to remember.

Sitting up on the edge of his bed, Dean rubbed his hands over his eyes.

"Another nightmare?" Bobby mumbled, still half asleep.

"Yeah, sorry." Dean replied.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, I'm fine. Get back to sleep."

The silence that followed told Dean that Bobby had done exactly that; there wasn't much that kept the older man from his sleep.

Dean knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep; having had the same dream for weeks now had told him as much. Sighing, he went up and went to the bathroom. A cold shower might help him shake off his kid brother's fear filled eyes haunting him even when he was awake. And maybe it would make him forget what he had seen yesterday for a few moments.

XXXXXXX

For the past hour, Dean sat in their motel room, staring outside the window. He hadn't moved, he hadn't talked, he hadn't reacted to anything Bobby had said. He went over what had happened the other day again and again.

_Sam holding a dead__ woman. _

_Blood everywhere. _

_Bodies on the ground. _

_Bobby burning on the ceiling. _

_Sam not reacting to the exorcism. _

It was always the same images running through his mind, like a bad movie that he couldn't forget. And it always ended the same - Sam was gone. And there was no way to bring him back. No deal to save him this time. No spell to free him. Just a bullet with his brother's name on it that would end his life and save a lot of people in the process.

Dean knew what he had to do. He had promised his father. He had promised Sam. Last night he had told Bobby that he would do it.

The only problem was, Dean didn't know if he could. When he stood in front of his brother, or the _thing _his brother had turned into, would he be able to pull the trigger? He hadn't been able to do it yesterday, even though he had _seen_ first hand what Sam had done.

_Sam holding a dead woman. _

_Blood everywhere. _

_Bodies on the ground. _

_Bobby burning on the ceiling. _

_Sam not reacting to the exorcism. _

They'd talked about the possibility of another binding spell. Bobby had told him it wasn't possible. Sam was still sporting the scar from the first binding spell, the one that Bobby had destroyed by burning. That scar alone would counteract every other binding spell.

So the only other explanation for why the exorcism hadn't worked was that Sam wasn't possessed. That he was evil - plain and simple. His little brother had lost the fight to save himself in order to save him.

His soul against Sam's.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. That's not why he'd made the deal. Sam was supposed to be safe. Another wave of despair washed over him and it took all of Dean's strength to not break down at that moment. All he had ever wanted was for his family to be safe.

And now he had lost them all.

"I've just got a call from Joshua. It looks like Sam might be in Shelby, Ohio." Bobby's voice broke the heavy silence that lay over the room. "Dean? Hey!"

Dean snapped out of his thoughts and turned to the other man. "What did you say?"

"Joshua called. One of his contacts said he saw the kid from that family yesterday in Shelby, Ohio. I figure that Sam won't be far from him." Bobby repeated what their mutual friend had told him.

"Let's go then." Dean replied after a moment of hesitation. He wanted to find Sam. And at the same time, he didn't. He still didn't know what to do.

XXXXXXX

_Shelby, Ohio_

From across the street, the two hunters watched the crowd scramble around a crime scene. The police had already cordoned off the area, but that didn't keep curious onlookers away. They were speaking in whispered voices as if by talking in a normal tone would be disrespectful towards the dead.

Dean shook his head as he watched them. "You'd think that less people would be willing to stare at something like that."

He pointed at the dead body of a 16-year-old boy; his hands and feet were nailed into the trunk of a tree standing in the middle of the town's market place. Blood coming out of his eyes, ears, nose and mouth were covering his face in a wash of red. His stomach was slit open, the intestines hanging out of the wound. His eyes were still open and the horror the boy must have experienced right before his death were still mirrored in them.

"It's Ken Miller. No doubt about it." Bobby stated, identifying the dead boy as the son of the family Sam had killed the day before.

"But why kill him? If he was possessed by a demon …" Dean's voice trailed off. He couldn't help but imagine how his brother had done this to the boy. It made him feel sick to even think about it.

"Maybe he found a better host." Bobby shrugged. "Who knows how demons tick."

"So Sam is probably gone by now." Dean said quietly; he had to use all his willpower to make his voice sound steady.

"Not necessarily. There must have been a reason he'd come to Shelby. He might still be here." Bobby replied. "I'll talk to one of the officers, maybe I can find something out."

"Okay." Dean nodded.

He watched Bobby walking towards one of the police men; he was glad that Bobby had taken that job. He didn't think that he'd have the patience to talk with them right now. Seeing this latest victim of Sam's actions had shook him up more than he would have thought. Yesterday, he had watched first hand what his brother was capable of. He hadn't thought it could get worse.

He had been wrong.

"It seems your brother has been quite busy lately."

Startled, Dean turned around to the familiar voice.

"Ruby." He didn't sound surprised.

"I thought you might need this." She threw a knife at Dean and he automatically caught it. "Might come in handy." She smirked.

Glancing suspiciously at Ruby, Dean pulled the knife out of its sheath. It looked familiar; Dean was sure he had seen it before, but he couldn't place it. He figured it was similar to the knife Ruby was always using to kill demons. Only they weren't dealing with a demon now. Just Sam.

"Thanks, but in this case, a normal bullet should do it." Dean stated, throwing the knife back at her. His voice shook slightly as he spoke.

Ruby looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

Dean started to hate her in that moment. Did she really want him to say it out loud? That it was only Sam doing all this? No demon, no other evil force controlling him? Just Sam. Thinking about it felt as if someone was turning a knife deep in his stomach. Saying it out loud was near impossible.

"Yes." He breathed out between clenched teeth after a moment.

"Did you never wonder about why Sam is running around gathering the demons around him?" Ruby asked, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips.

Dean hated her even more for that alone.

"He's gathering his army." He said, forcing his voice to sound steady. He was almost successful.

"Right, Azazel's army. His big dream; his _vision_." Ruby smirked. "If Sam is Azazel's Chosen One, you'd think the demons would find their way to him by himself, wouldn't you? Here …" She threw the knife back at Dean. "Just in case you might need it after all."

With that, she turned around and walked away.

Dean stared after her retreating back, his hands tightening around the knife. Why was it that demons could never outright say what they meant? He hated all these riddles.

"You might want to put that back. Police might become a bit suspicious about people running around with knifes like that today." Bobby had returned to his side and pointed at the knife in Dean's hand.

Nodding, Dean put the knife into his waistband, chastising himself for letting someone sneak up to him twice within five minutes without him noticing. He needed to get his act together!

"Did you find anything out?" He asked. He didn't mention Ruby. He would tell Bobby about her later. Right now he didn't think he could say anything else but how unnerved he was by her.

"Caidance O'Callahan, 16 year old daughter of the town's priest, disappeared last night." Bobby replied. "It might be connected to Sam."

"You have any idea where they might have gone to?" Dean asked.

"Not yet. Let's drive around, maybe we'll find a place that might look like a good hideout for Sam and his friends." Bobby replied gloomily.

"Okay." Dean nodded. He wanted to find Sam. And at the same time, he didn't.

XXXXXXX

Slowly, the police car rolled in front of the church then coming to a complete stop. The two police officers sitting inside, Officers Lewis Main and Will Stevens, looked at the entrance, noting that the wooden doors were wide open.

"What do you think?" Will asked his partner.

Being the younger of the two, Will always looked up to his more experienced partner, who having worked within the force for almost fifty years had already encountered every possible situation you could imagine as a small town police officer.

"If that girl is just playing tricks on her old man, I'm gonna lock her up in a cell over night. I don't care what the preacher has to say about that." Lewis growled. Ten minutes before his shift was over he really didn't look forward in investigating some strange noises that had been reported coming from inside of a church.

"Let's go." He reluctantly said, alighting from the car and making his way to the church steps. His partner followed close behind.

They stopped just inside the entrance and noticed that all candles along the aisle and at the altar had been lit. The candlelight cast a golden glow around the inside of the church and around a young girl kneeling down in the front row, her head bowed as if she was praying.

"You think it's Caidance?" Will asked.

"Who else?" Lewis mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Let me talk to her. You wait here, just in case she tries to run away again."

Quietly, Lewis walked up to the girl. He wondered what had gotten into the priest's daughter, that she acted like this. She had given her father quite a good scare with her sudden disappearance; everyone was already suspecting that whoever had murdered (_slaughtered_) that kid from this morning, was also responsible for Caidance's disappearance. In a way, Lewis was relieved to find her here, unharmed. On the other hand, he was pissed because she was acting like a spoiled child, scaring her father like that and causing everyone to worry. All day they had been looking for her. They had wasted time that should have been spend with looking for Ken Miller's murderer.

"Don't worry, you just found him." A male voice rang through the church. It sounded amused, and yet it sent chills down Lewis's spine.

Startled, the experienced police officer stopped moving and quickly scanned the inside of the church until he spotted a man standing in the shadows in one corner of the church.

"Who are you?" He asked loudly; his hand automatically going for his gun – something was definitely wrong here.

"Lewis?" Will called from the door. His question was followed by a startled yelp when suddenly the church doors slammed shut as if closed by invisible hands and he sprang forward, surprised by the sudden movement. "Hey, what the hell …!"

Lewis Main looked at his partner to make sure he was all right, then turned his attention back on the stranger. The man had stepped out of the shadows and Lewis could fully see his face now – he caught his breath when he met cold eyes staring back at him. In that moment, he knew he had found the killer the whole town had been looking for.

"Can I play with him?" Caidance's voice reached his ear.

Slowly, Lewis turned back to the young girl – he froze when he saw her. Instead of the warm, green eyes he had seen on the photo Father O'Callahan had given them, he saw dark eyes looking at him lustfully – the whites of her eyes had totally disappeared, with no signs of life or compassion left within them.

Lewis Main wasn't a man of faith, nor was he superstitious in any way, but seeing the disfigured face of the young girl terrified him to no end.

"What … argh!" Crying out, Lewis' hand went to his stomach as a piercing pain suddenly shot up his abdomen and spread though his whole body. A moment later he thought his head would explode any second as he was blinded by a white hot light. He never heard his partner's cries as he sank to the ground, welcoming the darkness as he succumbed to it.

XXXXXXX

Around midnight, Bobby and Dean stood in front of the town's church. While listening to the police radio, they had overheard a report that strange noises had been reported coming from the inside of the church. Knowing that the police would respond to this and send a car to investigate, they had planned to wait until the police were gone. Half an hour later the car was still there and no movement from the church indicated that the police had finished their inspection and were leaving.

It didn't take long for the two hunters to add two and two together. Something – _or_ _someone_ – had kept the two officers inside the church; they must have been taken by surprise as they didn't even have had the chance to call for assistance.

Neither Dean nor Bobby doubted that Sam was involved in this.

"We have to be quick." Bobby said quietly. "We can't give him a chance to react."

"I know." Dean replied in a hoarse voice.

"A bullet straight to the head, that's the only way."

"I know."

Dean felt sick. His stomach was churning, his heart was pounding, his hands were clammy. He didn't think he had ever felt this nervous in his life.

He was about to shoot his brother.

He still couldn't quite grasp how it could have come to this.

Three months ago, he should have died. He had been ready, or at least as ready as you can be when you're about to spend the rest of eternity in hell. He had said his good bye to the few friends he had. He had said his good bye to Sam.

And here he was, three months later, still alive, still breathing … and ready to kill his own brother.

Sam had begged him to do it once. And Dean had promised him. His father had warned him that he might have to do it. For two years, his last whispered words had been haunting Dean, but he had never really believed it would come to it. This was Sam, his little brother, the most gentle, kind person he knew. The kid had even felt guilty about some of the bad guys they had taken out.

And now Sam was one of the bad guys himself. Dean had seen it with his own eyes. And yet it felt wrong to fulfill the promise he had made to his father and Sam.

_Because this was Sam!_

"Ready?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah." Dean breathed out.

Together they walked up to the entrance and entered the church through the big wooden doors. Candles lit the way between the benches up to the altar. One of the officers lay motionless on the floor, blood coming out of his still open eyes.

They didn't need anymore proof do know that Sam was here.

Dean quickly walked up to the man while Bobby gave him cover with his gun.

"He's dead." The younger hunter stated after checking for a pulse.

"As is this one." A dark voice from above rang through the church.

Both Bobby and Dean's heads jerked up and they looked up at the gallery that was positioned over the entrance. Sam was standing at the balustrade, his outstretched arm holding the second police officer, Lewis Main, in the air; should he let go, the man would fall on the benches below.

"Don't do this, Sam!" Dean's voice sounded almost begging. He couldn't help it. _This was Sam. _

"Typical Dean, always trying to save the innocent." Sam laughed coldly.

It wasn't Sam's laughter. His voice didn't even sound like him anymore.

_Would that make it easier? _

A young woman appeared at Sam's side; Dean immediately recognized her as Caidance O'Callahan from the missing person's report.

"Can I play with him?" Caidance asked, her voice sounding seductive as she snuggled close to Sam; she eyed the older Winchester on the ground below with lust in her black eyes.

Sam didn't pay much attention to her.

"He's mine." He replied coldly. "You can have him though." He shrugged and a moment later let go of the officer.

Caidance squeaked in excitement and her face lit up; Lewis Main's body's fall was stopped just before it hit the ground and the girl used her powers to slam him into the huge wooden crucifix that hung over the altar. An invisible force pinned him there and a wide, satisfied smile spread over her face.

"This is fun." She grinned; the tone of her voice sending chills down Dean's spine.

A moment later the body again flew through the room until it crashed into a few benches – Dean knew that Bobby was most likely hiding behind them since Sam didn't seem to have spotted him yet. He just hoped it stayed that way as otherwise their "shoot straight to the head plan" would be worth nothing.

_And would that really be so bad?_

The thought had flashed through Dean's mind before he could stop it.

"And what's your plan today, big brother?" Sam's voice rang through the church. "Wanna try another exorcism?" He let out a short laugh; it sounded hollow and empty _and so not like Sam!_

But it was Sam and Dean was desperate to save him. There had to be another way. There just had to …

"Have you forgotten everything about Jess, Sammy?" Dean called out loud; grasping for every straw. He knew that he might just have a few moments before Bobby would carry out their plan; and the older Winchester was determined to use every millisecond he had to get his brother back. "You think she would still love you like this?"

"Ah, the 'love wins always' plan. You _really _think this is going to work?" Sam mocked his brother. "You know, I think I'm finally over Jess. Have been for a while actually. And it feels great!"

The cold tone in which Sam spoke about Jessica unnerved Dean. This wasn't his brother. "Sam would never say that." He stated determinedly. "Because the Sam I know still loves Jess and he cherishes her memory and …"

"You never really knew me, big brother." Sam interrupted him, casting him a pitiful glance. "All you ever wanted me to be was your shotgun riding next to you in your oh so precious Impala. Your little brother, the geek, who would do all the research for you and kept you company when you didn't want to be alone. Well, face up to it, bro, you're not getting that back. I'm finally free."

"That's not you." Dean insisted, unwilling to accept that Sam was speaking the truth; he was living from pure hope right now instead of listening to reason.

"Oh, but it is." Sam beamed. "100 percent Sam Winchester." He spread his arms out widely to clarify his point.

"No, it's not." Dean took a deep breath before he took the last chance he had, knowing that Bobby wouldn't wait much longer. „Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii …"

Dean called the exorcism spell out as loud as he could; the smug, satisfied smile disappearing from Sam's face making him hope that maybe, _just maybe_ this time it would work. Maybe there was a demon involved after all.

Sam stared at him, his eyes filled with pure hatred.

Seeing the hate in his kid brother's eyes directed at him, tore at Dean's heart. But he couldn't give up now. This was his last chance. "Ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te …" He continued determinedly.

He could hear Caidance screaming in pain.

A moment later Dean felt himself flying through the air until his back hit the wall with full force, pressing all air from his lungs. Slowly he slid down the wall and slumped down on the ground. It took him a moment to regain his balance and stop the world from spinning around him; when he looked up again, he saw Sam's eyes staring back at him from above - a picture of a guardian angel was hanging above him, at an angle that made it almost seem as if it was looking down on both of them.

And out of nowhere Dean suddenly remembered where he had seen the knife before. And in this moment he realized that Ruby had been right. All of the sudden Dean knew how he could save his brother. It was the only way.

Without hesitating, his hand went for the knife in his waistband, ready to pull it out. He froze in his movement upon hearing the sound of a single gun shot ring loudly through the church; the echo sending shards piercing through Dean's heart.

His eyes fell on Bobby who was standing upright in the middle of the church, his smoking gun pointed up at the gallery.

"NO!" Dean screamed.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N.: Many thanks to Kaz for her wonderful beta'ing. All mistakes are mine.**

* * *

"NO!" Dean screamed.

Ignoring his bruised body, Dean jumped up from the ground. Not bothering to look up, he started running towards the stairs leading up to the gallery.

"Dean, wait!" Bobby called after him, but the younger hunter ignored him.

His sole focus was directed at his brother who in his mind, Dean could see lying on the ground, a hole in his forehead and empty dead eyes staring up.

It took Dean only seconds to reach the gallery – a pool of blood on the ground being the first thing that caught his eyes, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Sammy?" He panted, his voice sounding desperate.

Then he saw the girl, sitting on the floor staring at her stomach that was a bloody mess. Their eyes locked and the moment Dean saw her black eyes, his mind kicked in and he started reciting the exorcism spell. It only took a few moments until the demon left the injured, weakened body in a black cloud of smoke. The dark eyes vanished and were replaced by green eyes filled with pain and fear. A few seconds later, the life in her eyes vanished and the girl slumped lifelessly down on the floor.

Helplessly, Dean stood next to her dead body, unable to save her.

"I knew this was a weak one, but this is down right embarrassing."

Dean's head snapped up as he heard those scolding words. Right in front of him stood Sam, alive, breathing and uninjured.

"Oops." Smirking, Sam put his hand in front of his mouth in a playful gesture. "I think good old Bobby missed."

Stunned, Dean stared at his brother.

_Sam was alive._

Sam was alive which meant their plan had failed. It also meant that Sam now knew about Bobby.

"Bobby?" He called for his friend, fearing that Sam probably had punished the older hunter for trying to shoot him. Not even the old Sam would let get this passed without any consequences.

Bobby's silence confirmed Dean's fears.

"Did you kill him?" Dean asked hoarsely. His right hand tightened around the knife he was holding.

"Where would be the fun with that?" Sam asked smirking. "I like to play with them before I end their miserable life."

"Good." Dean inhaled deeply. His hands were shaking, but he knew he had to do this. "I'm sorry, Sammy."

Dean launched himself at Sam who was completely taken by surprise by this action. Dean had counted on this short moment of confusion, it was all he needed. He put all his force behind this strike and drove the knife into Sam's stomach.

A bloodcurdling scream rang through the church.

A moment later, Sam collapsed, his fall stopped by Dean who had caught him in his arms and gently lay him on the ground. His hands immediately began to put pressure on Sam's stomach wound to stop the bleeding.

"Sam?" Dean whispered fearfully.

Suddenly Sam's body arched up, followed by epileptic tremors raking his body. His mouth opened and a black cloud escaped into the air. It didn't disappear, but quickly filled the room; for a second Dean feared that it would return into his brother's body.

Using all the energy he possessed, Dean held Sam's body on the ground, using his own to shield his brother against the cloud. He wanted to scream with joy because Sam hadn't been evil. He had been possessed. All this time … nothing that happened had been _Sam!_

But then he felt the spasms racking Sam's body under his touch and the blood on his hands – _Sam's blood! _Another wave of despair rolled over him when he realized that even though he had saved Sam from the demon, he might still loose him after all.

"BOBBY!" He screamed, hoping that the older hunter could hear him; that he was able to help him. He kept his hands firmly on Sam's stomach while at the same time the black cloud around him became thicker with every moment, making it more and more difficult to see anything.

Dean wanted it to stop – the bleeding, the shaking, the feeling of Sam slipping away from him. It was as if he was reliving his own hell; Lucifer himself couldn't have created a more horrible version of it.

Suddenly – out of nowhere – the brothers were drowned in a huge splash of water. A hissing sound filled the room and the temperature started rising to several degrees within seconds. Breathing became almost impossible and just when Dean thought he couldn't bare the heat anymore, the black cloud, _the demon, _vanished. The air was clean again, the temperature dropped down to normal and Sam stilled under Dean's hands.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

For a moment, time seemed to have stopped. Dean stared at Bobby who was standing at the entrance to the gallery, leaning against the wall and holding the now empty bowl of the baptismal font in his hands. His forehead was sporting a bleeding gash and he was breathing heavily, his left hand pressing on his rips.

"You look like shit." Dean breathed out, relieved to see his friend alive.

"You're welcome." Bobby smirked.

Dean swallowed heavily and focused back on his brother. His eyes were closed, sweat was building on his forehead and the color of his face had turned into a deadly white.

"We have to call 911." Dean said, his voice shaking from fear for his brother.

"Already working on it." Bobby assured him. He had already pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed to call for help.

They would deal with the consequences later.

"Sammy …" Dean whispered his brother's name. "Can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes man, just for a second." He swallowed. "Let me know you're still in there, little brother."

Dean didn't dare take his hands from off the knife wound to check for a pulse and Sam's breathing had become so shallow that it was hardly noticeable. But Dean always was extra attentive when it came to his little brother and he saw the small movement of Sam's chest rising and falling even when no one else would.

"Don't leave me, Sammy." He choked out. Tears were brimming in his eyes, but he didn't want to remove his hands from Sam to wipe them away. They ran freely down his cheeks, dropping down on his hands and mixing with Sam's blood.

Sirens were heard in the distance and Dean prayed that he hadn't fatally injured his brother.

XXXXXXX

"I'm telling you, I'm fine." Bobby barked at the nurse in front of him, shoving her hand from his arm.

"You have a bleeding head wound. You call that okay?" Nurse Caitlin Moore replied defiantly. "It needs to be taken care of and the doctor probably wants to …"

"I don't care what anyone wants. Right now you just care about that kid in there, you hear me?!" He pointed at the closed door to one of the examination rooms that Sam had been rushed in to a few minutes ago.

The ride to the hospital had been a tough one; Sam's heart had stopped twice, but both times the paramedics had been able to bring him back fairly quickly. Sam had held his own until they had reached the hospital and Bobby prayed that he would keep fighting.

"Sir, your son is taken care of. You really need …"

"You see that boy over there?" Bobby cut her off brusquely, ignoring the fact that the nurse had just called the younger Winchester his son. He pointed at Dean who, as soon as Sam had vanished from his sight, had lost all strength to go on. He was kneeling on the ground, his back leaning against the wall and his head resting in his hands. A small, despaired sob reached Bobby's ears and it broke his heart.

"That's his brother in there." Bobby glared at the nurse. "You really think I'm going to leave him alone now?"

With a defeated sigh, Nurse Moore gave in – she wasn't a heartless woman and the sight of the young man sitting on the floor in her waiting room was tearing at her heart. "Let me at least get something to patch up your head." She insisted. "I don't want you bleeding on my floor."

"Fine." Bobby shrugged and quickly walked over to Dean as the Nurse left to get some gauze. He sat down next to him and put a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Sam's a fighter. He's gonna be all right." He said quietly.

Dean didn't respond. Bobby couldn't blame him. He didn't quite believe it himself.

"So, you care to tell me what happened in that church?" He asked quietly after a few minutes.

"Not now, Bobby." Dean replied in a hoarse voice; it took all his willpower to not fully break down in front of the older hunter.

Bobby sighed. He hated pressing Dean for more information in this moment, but he needed to know if there would be any further steps to be taken. "I need to know, you know that."

Dean seemed to sink into himself a little further, but a moment later he looked up at Bobby; tear stains were clearly visible on his cheeks. "He was possessed." He sniffed and rubbed his hands over his face. "He was just possessed, Bobby."

"How did you know? The exorcism didn't work." The older man urged Dean to go on; he needed more than just that.

"No, it didn't. Or …" Dean hesitated a moment. "Or maybe it did, but slower than usual. That demon … he was strong. And with Sam's psychic powers … it might have made it easier for him to fight the exorcism."

"And you figured that out when?" Bobby asked with a raised eyebrow. He thought that Dean would have brought that up when they had talked about shooting Sam straight in the head.

"I wasn't really sure about it until the demon left Sam's body." Dean admitted sheepishly.

Bobby rolled his eyes in dismay. Leave it to the Winchesters to risk everything on a gut feeling. He loved them for it, but it was also pretty unnerving. "And what about the knife?" He asked. "Where did that come from?"

Dean cast him a guilty look. "Ruby."

The older hunter looked at him surprised. "Ruby? When did she show up?"

"Yesterday." Dean whispered, his voice almost inaudible. A blind man could see the guilt radiating from the younger man for keeping this information from Bobby.

"Damn it, Dean!" Bobby cursed under his breath.

"I'm sorry, man." Dean looked at him sadly.

Bobby could see that he really was feeling bad about this. It didn't make it any better, but it softened his anger. And he couldn't really be angry at Dean anyway while his brother was fighting for his life in the next room.

"I didn't immediately recognize it, but … I think it's Jim's knife." Dean went on quietly; he was barely holding it together, but talking to Bobby helped to not break down.

"Jim Murphy?" Bobby asked astounded.

"Yeah. He …" A small smile played on Dean's lips as he remembered the long-time family friend. "He once showed me his weapon's cash and this knife was among it. He said it could kill a demon without necessarily killing the person who's possessed. It could still kill them, being a knife and all, but at least …" His voice trailed off and Dean found himself unable to continue.

"At least this person had a chance of survival." Bobby finished for him. He remembered that Jim had once told him about such a weapon, but the seasoned hunter had never known that Jim had actually possessed it. It was definitely a better weapon than the Colt or the knife Ruby was using. "I wonder how Ruby got her hands on it."

Dean shrugged, the pain he was feeling intensifying when he remembered Jim Murphy's untimely death. "There wasn't really anyone around to take care of Pastor Jim's things when he died. We were after the yellow eyed bastard, you were helping us and Caleb …" He swallowed.

"And Caleb was already dead." Once again Bobby finished for him. It was a sad fact, but the first hunter that had been able to take care of Jim's belongings had only arrived days after his death. There had been enough time for everyone to take what they wanted from his collection of weapons and other supernatural stuff.

Suddenly the door to the examination room Sam had been treated in flew open and the younger Winchester was rolled out on a gurney towards the elevator. Immediately, Dean jumped up, followed by Bobby who, due to his injuries, wasn't as quick on his feet. Both men ran up to the younger Winchester, but a nurse stopped them.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to wait here." She said sternly.

"Where are you bringing him?" Dean asked, fear and worry ringing in his voice.

"To the OR." She replied shortly and then slipped into the elevator just before the doors closed and hid Sam from his worried brother's sight.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N.: Many thanks to Kaz for her fantastic beta'ing and to everyone else for reading and reviewing.**

* * *

Dean sat quietly next to Sam's bed, watching the rise and fall of his brother's chest, the only indication that he was still alive. Even this small movement, as precious as it was, gave him no comfort. Because Sam's breathing was aided by a ventilator. And it was this ventilator that was keeping his brother alive. Not Sam's body, not Sam's consciousness – just a machine.

Sam was also hooked up to other machines that helped in keeping his body alive. Controlling the flow of nutrients and drugs to his bloodstream, monitoring his heartbeat and blood pressure.

All of these _things_ were what was keeping Sam by his side and alive, the quiet but incessant ticking and beeping of the monitors the only indication that his heart was still beating.

Dean wanted nothing more than to be rid of them and for Sam to be up and awake and controlling his own actions. He wanted Sam to be _okay_!

Only he wasn't. Not in a long run. Sam was in critical condition. And the doctor's words explaining this to him were haunting Dean's every waking moment.

_"Your brother has lost a lot of blood. Coupled with a severe case of dehydration and malnourishment, it has weakened his body to a degree that at the moment it can't function on his own."_

"_Dehydration, mal… what? How?" Dean asked stunned. _

"_It seems that over a period of several weeks, your brother has had just enough food and drink to keep his body from completely shutting down." Dr. Wilson explained. "We're giving him fluids and nutrition through an IV to build up his strength."_

_Dean nodded as he tried to take all of this in. None of it made sense to him, but he would have to try and come up with an explanation for it later. He braced himself for the most dreaded question. "What about the knife wound?" _

"_Your brother was lucky." Dr. Wilson replied. "The knife entered the abdomen's left lower quadrant and only injured the small intestines. Under the circumstances, it was the best part where your brother could have been stabbed." _

_Dean swallowed. "So the wound is not life threatening?" _

"_No." Dr. Wilson shook his head. __"The abdominal wound in itself would not cause this amount of blood loss. It's his cut wrists that are the reason for the dramatic blood loss."_

_Again Dean felt utterly stunned. "Cut wrists?" _

_Dr. Wilson suddenly looked __uncomfortable at having to explain his patient's condition to the young man in front of him – a condition he couldn't even really fully explain to himself. "__Your brother has cuts on both his wrists. They already seem to be a few weeks old, though for some reason they haven't healed the way they should have. I don't know why, but … it almost seems as if something stopped the wound from fully closing and also the blood cells from rebuilding themselves." _

_And then it suddenly made complete sense to Dean. Tamiel - he must have done that. Dean didn't know why – though he had a suspicion; and just for that he wished he could kill that son of a bitch all over again. _

_The mention of slit wrists also __reminded__Dean of the bowl filled with blood - _Sam's blood!-_ that he had found __the day he'd lost__ his brother; the memory making him __feel sick in the pit__ of his stomach. _

_"There's still the danger of organ failure." Dr. Wilson went on._

_And Dean remembered that doctors always waited with the worst news until the last minute. _

"_And brain damage. We won't really know for sure until your brother has woken up. The fact alone that he is in this deep coma has me worried. He's not reacting to any kind of stimuli."_

"_What kind of reaction are you talking about?" Dean wanted to know. Getting in answer to this question would give him something else to do than just sit next to Sam and waiting for him to wake up. He could look intently for any sign of reaction; __for proof that__ Sam was still there. _

"_A twitch of the finger, an increased heart rate, something like that. But so far your brother hasn't shown any of it." _

"_He will." Dean replied. "Just give him some time." _

That had been over a week ago. Dean had been convinced then that it wouldn't take long for Sam to regain consciousness. He was a Winchester and a Winchester never needed much time to bounce back from an injury. But Sam hadn't woken up. And he still hadn't reacted to anything.

It was as if he was already gone.

Dean leaned forward and took his brother's hand in his own, needing the physical contact as much for himself - a reassurance that Sam was still with him.

"Come on, Sammy, give me something."

_Wake up, move your fingers, open your eyes, anything! _

_Just don't leave me. Not again._

There was a rustle of movement across the bed from Dean and a familiar figure eased itself into the vacant chair opposite.

"Any change?" Bobby asked as he sat down.

Dean shook his head in silence, his eyes on the silent form in front of him. Bobby cast a concerned glance at both boys.

_Both of them look like death warmed up,_ Bobby thought as he continued to study them. If it wasn't for Dean being upright, the doctors most likely would have put him a hospital bed as well.

Bobby could see that Dean had hardly slept or even eaten since Sam had been admitted. His body was working overtime on adrenalin and possibly cheap hospital coffee to keep him going. He knew that the hospital staff would've tried to have him rest, or cajoled him into eating something. But nothing would be able to withstand the Winchester stubborn streak – Bobby had learned that the hard way. He surmised that the nursing staff would've given up after a time and let him stay by his brother's side and sleep in the cold plastic chair. The warm and comfortable motel room that Bobby had gotten him would stay empty for as long as Sam wasn't on the road of recovery.

And Sam – Bobby wanted to believe that the younger Winchester would be strong enough to pull through this, but he didn't have much hope left. Sam's white skin matched the sheets of his bed and his almost bloodless lips made him look more dead than alive. Without the machines he would die. And Bobby was starting to think that maybe this would be for the better.

He sure as hell wouldn't want to live on like this.

"I got you something to eat." Bobby said after a moment, pulling out a paper bag from his jacket. He had long since given up in trying to convince Dean to leave Sam's side for a visit to the cafeteria on the first day. "It wasn't easy smuggling this by the nurse's station. This red-haired one - I'm telling you, she has x-ray-vision. She kept staring at me like I was a hardened criminal."

"You probably are." Dean pointed out chuckling.

"Look who's talking." Bobby quipped back.

Dean smiled and took a bite from the cheeseburger. Swallowing down, he realized how hungry he was. Living from coffee alone obviously wasn't enough. He appreciated Bobby's efforts to keep him going; in fact he was downright grateful. He didn't think he'd be able to get through this without the older man's support. Bobby did his best to keep him going, to be there for him – only it wasn't enough.

Because Bobby wasn't Sam.

And the last time that Dean had lost Sam should have been proof enough that he simply couldn't function without his little brother.

He needed Sam to keep going, to concentrate on such easy tasks as eating, drinking, getting up in the morning, _living_.

"You think he's still in there?" Dean asked in an almost whispered voice, the thought that the answer might be 'no' almost suffocating him.

Bobby swallowed, not sure what he should say. Was Sam still in there? He wasn't dead yet, so yes, Bobby was sure he was. But was it still the Sam they knew?

"We'll just have to wait. Sam will wake up when the time is right."

"What if he doesn't?" Dean looked helplessly at the older man. "What if he can't?"

Bobby frowned. "What do you mean?"

Putting the cheeseburger back down, his hunger forgotten, Dean looked intently at Bobby. "I keep having this dream …" He started, unsure how to go on.

"The nightmares." Bobby stated. He didn't need to ask; he had witnessed Dean jerking up from sleep in the middle of the night too often during the last few weeks.

"Yes. And no. It's … it's not really a nightmare, it's more like …"

"Like what?" Bobby carefully urged him to continue.

Dean hesitated a moment, but then it all spilled out of him. "It's always the same. I'm in this room. There are no windows, no doors, no furniture – nothing. There was a light coming from somewhere from above, but it keeps getting darker lately." He took a deep breath before he continued. "I hear a child crying. I find a boy sitting in a corner. And when I walk up to him … he looks at me and it's Sam. Not as a grown up, he's still a kid, maybe 8, 9 years old. And he looks so scared, Bobby. He always looks scared." Dean glanced pleadingly at the older man as if he could do anything to make this better.

And Bobby truly wished there'd be something. "It's just a dream, Dean." He said quietly.

"What if it isn't?" Dean asked desperately. "What if he's trapped in there somehow? Maybe … maybe he shut himself in so he wouldn't know what the demon was doing. And now he can't get out anymore."

"You would have made a good shrink." Bobby stated dryly. He didn't believe that there was anything to Dean's theory, but he didn't have the heart to outright say it.

"I've been thinking about this." Dean went on, Bobby's remark going by unheard. "If I could reach him somehow …"

"I'm sure he knows you're here, Dean." Bobby cut in." The Doc said we should keep talking to him. There's always the chance that …"

"That's not what I'm talking about, Bobby." Dean interrupted him. He looked pointedly at the other man. "I'm mean really talking to him."

"What are you …"

"The dream root, you think you can get your hands on some?" Dean asked, his tone making it clear that he wasn't joking.

"No!" Vehemently, Bobby shook his head. "Don't even think about it."

"Come on, Bobby, it's worth a try. There's no harm in it." Dean looked pleadingly at the other hunter. If things were reversed and Sam would be in his place, Bobby would get the dream root in a heartbeat. People never could deny his little brother anything for very long.

But Sam wasn't in his place because Sam was lying in a bed, unconscious, and he might never wake up again unless Dean helped him. As it was, Dean was on his own and unfortunately, Bobby never had had a problem saying no to him.

"No harm?" Bobby exclaimed. "Dean, we have no idea if that's still Sam in there. God knows what he could do to you if you …"

He stopped when he saw Dean's features freeze. The younger man took on a defensive stance, hurt and immense pain shining through in his eyes before a mask slipped over his face. He looked at Bobby as if he was a complete stranger and it broke the older man's heart.

"Dean …"

"Don't worry, I'll get it myself." Dean replied coldly. He turned away from Bobby and focused all his attention on his brother.

With sad eyes, Bobby looked at the two young men in front of him. Both had so much love for each other that they were willing to do anything, even sacrifice themselves, to save the other. Bobby couldn't save them from themselves. All he could do was be there for them. And support them in every way possible.

"Give me a day or two. I'll see what I can do." He said quietly after a moment.

"Don't bother, I can take care of this on my own. Sam's my responsibility, not yours." Dean replied in a bitter voice, hurt shining through even though he did his best to hide it.

Bobby let out a short, hoarse laughter. "Boy, you have become my responsibility since the day John made me play babysitter for his two kids. I'll get the dream root, just don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

At this, Dean looked up at him, tears brimming in his eyes. "I just need to try this." He choked out.

"I know." Bobby sighed. "I know."

He raised from his chair and after patting Dean's shoulder and giving Sam's hand a quick squeeze, he turned to leave.

"Thanks, Bobby." Dean called after him.

"Don't mention it." Bobby smiled at him and then closed the door, leaving the two Winchesters alone in the room. He hoped he was doing the right thing. He couldn't bare the thought to lose Dean as well.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N.: Thanks to everyone for reading and especially to those who took the time to review. Your feedback is very, very much appreciated, thank you! Many thanks to Kaz for her wonderful beta'ing. All mistakes are mine.**

* * *

"This stinks even worse than I remember." Dean complained, eying the liquid in his cup suspiciously. "You sure it's the right stuff?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't have to drink it if you don't want to." He countered gruffly, still having the small hope that maybe Dean wouldn't go through with this after all.

Dean gave him the patented Winchester look, raising an eyebrow in reply, before he drowned the dream root concoction.

A few moments later he was slumped in his chair, soundly asleep.

XXXXXXX

Dean was standing in a wide room. Everything was black - walls, ground, ceiling.

There were no windows, only a dim light coming from above.

He could hear a child crying from somewhere close.

_This was it. Just like in his dream!_

"Sammy?" He called out loud.

No answer.

He pivoted, knowing full well what to expect when he turned. His eyes fell upon a small boy sitting hunched over in a corner. His knees were pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, his face buried. Slowly he was rocking back and forth.

"Sammy." Dean breathed out relieved, quickly walking up to his brother. "Hey, you're okay?"

He knelt down next to Sam and carefully put a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, Sam's head snapped up and he backed away from Dean.

"No!" He cried out in fear.

"Sammy, it's okay, it's me, little brother." Dean tried to calm him. At the same time he did his best to keep his emotions under control; despite having dreamed about this for weeks now, seeing his younger brother looking like his 8 year old self shook him up more than he'd expected.

Sam kept staring at him as if he was the devil himself. Dean had never seen him look so scared before.

"Go away!" Sam said in a quivering voice, pulling away from Dean to escape the hand that was holding him.

"Sammy, look at me, you know me." Dean kept trying. He didn't dare touch his brother again. "I might look a bit older than you right now but I'm still your big brother."

Sam shook his head and refused to look at him. "No, I don't believe you anymore. Leave me alone!"

Dean sighed in frustration; this was more difficult than he'd thought.

"Sammy, do you know where you are? Do you remember what happened?" Dean asked, forcing his voice to sound calm. Seeing this 8 year old version of his brother was unnerving. To see him so scared, so openly vulnerable – he had never noticed it, but over the years, Sam had gotten better in hiding his fears from Dean. He still always knew they were there – they were just never this obvious anymore.

"Go away." Sam mumbled, still refusing to look at Dean. He buried his head on his knees again, his hands clapped tightly over his ears.

"Uhu, not gonna happen, bro." Dean said determinedly. "Come on Sam, look at me. It's really me." He kept trying to reach his brother.

Sam just kept shaking his head, never looking up.

Sighing, Dean sat down in front of him. He looked at his brother for a long time, trying to find a way to convince him that he was real; that it was okay to trust him. This wasn't something he usually had to deal with – Sam had always trusted him before. On everything.

He tried to imagine what Sam would do if the situation was reversed. His brother was always better at this stuff than he was. Dean had watched him so often while he convinced complete strangers to trust him, to spill out their heart, their worst fears to him. Pastor Jim had once said that it was a gift – a gift Sam didn't even know he possessed.

A sudden memory flashed through his mind – he and Sam were driving in the Impala, away from Bobby's yard, away from the days that Sam had been possessed by Meg. At one point, Sam had started talking about stuff from their childhood. Dean had been annoyed at that at first – because, _really_, Sam had just been possessed and he wanted to talk about the time they had waited in the Impala for their Dad who had been busy taking care of a poltergeist? Or about the one and only time Caleb had taken them to a football game?

Dean hadn't understood it at first, but when Sam hadn't stopped, when he had just kept rambling on about all kind of childhood memories, he had suddenly realized that this was Sam's way to deal with what had happened. He had needed to prove to himself that _this _was real … reminding himself that there was no demon inside of him anymore, controlling him.

If it had worked for Sam then, it might work again now.

Taking a deep breath, Dean choose one of the million shared memories he had with his brother. He chuckled when the image of him and a six year old Sam sitting hunched close together in a closet flashed through his mind. He had gotten them into serious trouble back then.

"Remember when we were spending the night in that haunted house?" He started. "I think it was somewhere in Indiana. Man, I was so scared. With all of Dad's training, I'd never seen a ghost before." Dean laughed quietly, remembering that night as if it had been yesterday. "Of course I couldn't let you notice that. You expected me to know everything. And I still had my pride." He grinned. "Of course, I knew nothing though and when all hell broke loose, all I could think of was hiding in that stupid closet. You were so brave that day, Sammy." He said softly, looking proudly at his brother. "That ghost kept using us as his own personal punching ball and we were hurting everywhere. But you just kept looking at me as if you knew I'd get us out of there. Wanna know the truth?" Dean smirked. "All the time, I'd been praying for Dad to show up and get us out of there."

While talking, Dean kept looking intently at his brother. At the mention of their father, he finally saw a reaction coming from Sam. He tensed up – something Dean was so used to when it came to his father and brother – and after a moment, Sam slowly lifted his head. He still looked at Dean with mistrust in his eyes, but it was a start.

Dean decided to keep talking; this was obviously working. "And yet, when I finally heard Dad calling us, I totally froze." He smiled. "If it hadn't been for you yanking the door open and practically running into Dad, we'd still be sitting in that closet."

Dean's smile widened when he saw the first signs of trust blinking up in Sam's eyes.

"I want him back." Sam whispered, his voice so quiet that Dean almost didn't hear him. His brother looked so lost in that moment that Dean had to fight the urge to pull him into a tight hug.

"Me too." He replied instead, his voice trembling with emotion.

He blinked a tear away that was threatening to escape and in that short moment Sam changed. Instead of an 8 year old version of his brother, he saw a 25 year old Sam sitting before him.

"Good to have you back, Sammy." He breathed out relieved. The urge to pull his brother into a close hug, to hold him tightly so to not lose him again grew even stronger, but he held himself back. He didn't want to scare Sam away again.

"Tamiel is dead." He said quietly, hoping that Sam would now remember everything that had happened.

But when Sam tensed up in front of him, Dean immediately knew he had said the wrong thing.

"Sammy …"

"Go away, I don't believe you. Not again. LEAVE ME ALONE!" He screamed the last part as loud as he could.

"Sam ..."

The younger Winchester refused to listen to him any longer. Once again he buried his head on his knees; he pulled his hands over his head as to shut out the whole world and slowly started rocking back and forth again. He kept shaking his head as to deny that anything he saw here was true.

The sight tore at Deans heart; helplessly he looked at his brother, not sure how he should continue.

"Come on, Sammy, you gotta help me out here." He whispered. "You're the expert with this stuff."

"You're not Dean." Sam muttered, repeating the words over and over again. "You're not Dean."

"Who do you think I am, Sammy?" Dean asked quietly. "The demon? Is that it? You think I'm Tamiel?"

"Shut up!" Sam yelled, finally looking at Dean again.

His eyes were filled with fear, pain and despair; Dean was sure that his brother wanted to believe him, but whatever Tamiel had done to him held him back.

"Did he want something from you? Is that it? And he disguised himself as me to get it from you?" Dean pressed on.

"I'm not helping you. You're not Dean!" Again Sam crossed his arms over his head and stared down on the floor. All the while, he kept rocking back and forth. "You're not him."

"What did he want, Sam?"

"Leave me alone."

"Sorry, can't do that, bro. I'm not leaving here without you."

At this Sam stopped and looked up at Dean again, utter despair shining in his eyes.

"Please ..." He begged. "I can't ..."

"What Sammy?" Dean urged him to go on. "What can't you?"

A shadow crossed over his brother's face and all of the sudden he looked at Dean with fierce determination. "I'll never help you to use my full powers. I'm not giving in. Never! I'd rather die!" He spat out.

Stunned Dean stared at his brother. A moment later a wide smile spread over his face and he looked proudly at Sam. "That's my boy."

The determination on Sam's face crumbled and he looked at Dean in confusion. "What?"

"I knew you wouldn't give in to that demon bastard, Sammy." Dean grinned proudly. "You know what we should do? As soon as you're up to it, we summon that son of a bitch, bring him back to life and then you can send his sorry ass right back to hell all over again. What do you think?" He smirked.

Sam stared at him for a long time and Dean was sure that finally he was getting through to him.

"You're not him?" Sam asked eventually in a whispered voice.

"No, I'm not him. Just plain old Dean Winchester." Dean replied quietly.

"I can always feel him." Sam whispered. "His ... presence. The things he did; I didn't ... I couldn't ... I just couldn't."

"I know. It's okay, Sammy, you did good. You didn't give in to him." Dean said quietly, pride in his voice. "Do you still feel him now?"

Sam looked unsure, his eyes widely scanning the room as if he could find the answer somewhere in there. "No." He whispered after a moment, shaking his head.

"I told you he's dead." Dean said.

"I don't know what to do." Sam whispered. He looked lost, vulnerable and helpless and Dean would have given everything to make that look disappear from his little brother's face. To make things right again.

"Do you trust me?" He asked after a moment.

He could see that Sam wanted to believe him, but at the same time wasn't sure if this wasn't just some new trick the demon played to his mind.

"Time to go home." Dean held his hand out for his brother to take.

Sam stared at the outstretched hand for a long time.

"Home …" He whispered silently. A moment later he took the offered hand.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm so, so sorry. Is there still someone out there interested in this story? **

**It took me forever to get this chapter done and once I had finished it, I thought it might be better to wait with posting until I had this story finished. Which I have now, so there shouldn't really be any overly long updates between the remaining chapters from now on.**

Thanks to Kaz for her amazing beta'ing.

* * *

Dean's eyes flew open as he sat up with a start.

"Sammy?" His eyes searched for his brother as he climbed out of bed, wincing in pain at a tug from the back of his arm. Confused he looked down and followed a tube that was fastened to his arm. He realized in that same instant that he was hooked up to an IV and dressed in a white hospital shirt and pants.

"What the ...?" Without hesitating, Dean pulled the IV out, his eyes scanning the room for his brother at the same time.

Sam was nowhere to be seen.

"SAM!"

Dean was in full panic mode as he stormed out of the room. Ignoring the discomfort he felt when his feet touched the coldness of the floor, he looked up and down the corridor, trying to decide which way to go first. He had promised Sam that he would look after him, keep him safe, that he could trust him. And Sam had.

And yet, here he was. Alone in a hospital corridor with no sign of his brother.

"Sammy?" He all but shouted for his brother in the echoing corridor.

"Mr. Gray? What ... When did you wake up?" A flustered nurse suddenly appeared at his side. Alerted by his concerned cry, her hands hovered near his arm as if she was afraid he would collapse at any moment.

"Where is my brother?" Dean wanted to know, successfully shaking off her hand.

"You belong in a bed, Mr. Gray. Let me get the doctor and he can answer all your questions." She cajoled, gently coercing him back towards his room.

"This isn't ICU." He stated, determinedly shaking her off again.

"Well no, your condition wasn't critical, you just ..." Her voice trailed off as she was unsure how to continue. So far the doctors hadn't been able to find out what had caused his coma and his sudden recovery would give them even more to think about. But if she wanted this young man to trust her and his doctors, this was not something she would share with him.

"I just needed a good nights sleep." Dean smirked as if reading her thoughts. Then he quickly turned towards the elevator, determined to find Sam on his own and leaving a puzzled nurse behind, staring at his retreating back.

XXXXXXX

With a long gulp Bobby emptied his cup of cafeteria made coffee, it's bitter aftertaste almost making him gag. The hit of caffeine didn't really help as he still felt tired. And he was tired of being tired. He was tired of just sitting here, not being able to do anything. He was tired of the whole damn situation and wanted nothing more than for the Winchesters to wake up and be their normal, annoying selves.

He was tired of being worried.

Bobby hadn't left the hospital once during the last three days, his whole time spent at Dean's and Sam's bedside, waiting for them to wake up.

He was worried for the both of them, but especially for Dean. His coma was unexplained and its possible repercussions kept him awake at night to the point where he kept himself awake with his worrying.

Dean should have woken up long ago. Only a few minutes, one hour tops, he had said. And now three days had passed and Dean still showed no signs of regaining consciousness.

Bobby was afraid of all the things that could have gone wrong. What if Sam wasn't really _Sam _anymore? What if he was keeping Dean in there, lost in his own nightmares? Bobby still remembered his own dream root induced nightmare and it still shook him to the core; he wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially not Dean.

He had thought about taking the dream root himself and follow Dean into his dreams. But that would mean leaving all three of them defenseless – and even though Tamiel was dead, there were still too many _things_ out there that could harm them. So he had resigned himself to the fact that he had to wait this one out- something he really wasn't used to.

Bobby had been so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice any change in Sam. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the young man's body suddenly arched up, choking sounds escaping his mouth. Rushing to his side, Bobby leant over the younger Winchester, trying to catch Sam's confused, scared and panic stricken eyes with his own. Willing him to calm down and look at him, he firmly placed his hands on Sam's shoulders, trying to stop him from fighting the intubation.

"Sam, calm down, everything's okay." He soothed. "You're intubated at the moment. Just let the ventilator do the breathing for you, okay? You'll be fine."

Sam's eyes went back and forth in panic as if scanning the room for something – or someone. Bobby knew exactly who he was looking for.

"Dean's not here at the moment, son. I'll get him as soon as you calm down, all right?" He grabbed both of Sam's hands to stop him from reaching the tube that was inserted down his throat. He had seen the kind of strength an injured Winchester could possess when pushed to his limits and he was afraid the boy would pull the tube out and further injure himself. And how was he supposed to explain that to Dean?

Bobby was still struggling to keep Sam calm, when the door to the room opened and a nurse stepped inside.

"When did he wake up?" She asked quickly.

"Just a moment ago." Bobby replied, grateful for her presence.

The nurse immediately rushed to Sam's side. "Hold his arms down." She instructed Bobby who did as she told him – he pressed down Sam's arms as if his life depended on it.

"Mr. Gray, you have to calm down." The nurse spoke to Sam, using the same words Bobby had just moments ago. "You're in a hospital. Everything is all right. We had to intubate you. Just let the ventilator do the breathing for you."

She wasn't able to reach Sam any more than Bobby had. The younger Winchester kept trying to breath on his own, his eyes widened in fear and panic when his lungs refused to take in any air. Scared he kept looking for his brother.

"I'll have to sedate him." The nurse said.

"What?" Bobby exclaimed. "He just woke up!"

"He can't breath, Mr. Singer." She told him. "You want him to suffocate?"

"No, but …" Helplessly, Bobby looked at Sam whose lips already stared turning blue.

Suddenly the door burst open and Dean stormed in. "Sammy …"

His heart skipped a beat when he saw what was going on. He was at Sam's side within moments. "Get away from him." He barked at the nurse.

Intimidated by the sheer force that was Dean Winchester, the nurse backed away. Bobby did the same; not that he was afraid of the younger hunter, but he knew when his presence was unwanted. And seeing Dean awake as well had taken him by surprise.

"He needs to be sedated, he's choking." The nurse tried to regain the upper hand.

Dean ignored her and she didn't dare to interrupt him again. She cast an annoyed glare at the two men and then left the room to get a doctor for help.

In the meantime, Dean leaned over his brother and cupped Sam's face with his hands. "Hey Sammy, I'm here, it's okay. You're safe." Dean spoke calmly. "You trust me?"

He waited a moment until Sam had calmed down enough to give him a small nod. Scared and confused eyes met his.

"Good. Then stop fighting and let the ventilator breath for you. Okay?"

Dean could feel his brother's whole body tremble beneath him, but eventually Sam nodded and his breathing calmed. The younger Winchester's eyes never left his brother.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." Dean smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's good to have you back, Sammy." He breathed out relieved.

XXXXXX

Once Sam had calmed down enough, the ventilator was removed and Sam was able to breath on his own without problems.

Dean watched quietly when his brother's doctor, David Wilson, conducted his tests to verify Sam's condition - to see if there was any kind of brain damage caused by the coma that the doctor had never really been able to explain.

Sam winced and automatically pulled his head away when Dr. Wilson shone a small light into his eyes - the doctor, having anticipated that move, gently held Sam's head still to complete the eye scan. Even though he treated Sam with the utmost care, Dean had to fight the urge to snatch the light out of his hand and push him away from his brother.

"Do you know your name?" Dr. Wilson asked once he was finished with the examination.

"Sam ..." The younger Winchester hesitated and looked unsure at his older brother; it wasn't that he didn't know his name, the problem was that Dean hadn't been able to fill him in on their current cover story yet - which included his last name.

"Gray." Dean choked out between coughs.

It earned him a scolding look from the doctor. "Mr. Gray, this isn't helping your brother. I need to know ..."

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry." Dean apologized, trying to look as innocent as possible while trying to suppress the urge to roll his eyes; this wasn't helping Sam at all. "I'll be quiet from now on."

"Good." Dr. Wilson mumbled. Then he turned back to his patient.

"I knew that." Sam replied quickly before the next question could be asked.

His voice sounded hoarse and Dean was sure his throat must hurt like hell at the moment. He was glad that his brother still struggled to say a few words in between, no matter how painful. He needed nothing more than to see his brother awake and talking, something he had started to doubt he'd ever see Sam doing again these last few days.

Dr. Wilson smiled at him sympathetically. "Mr. Gray, there is no reason to be ashamed. It's normal after a coma, especially as deep as yours, to have difficulties remembering certain things."

The pain flickering across his brother's face at his words tore at Dean's heart. He had hoped that Sam wouldn't remember much, preferably nothing at all. Or at least not the worst parts. But judging from the haunted look in Sam's eyes that wasn't the case.

"Do you remember anything about the attack?" Dr. Wilson asked.

Sam stiffened and visibly paled at the question; his eyes downcast he didn't dare look at Dean for help this time.

'_Damn.'_ Dean thought. The Doc was asking all the wrong questions.

"When you got stabbed from that lunatic, do you remember that, Sammy?" Dean tried to give his brother at least a glimpse of the cover story he and Bobby had came up with.

"Mr. Gray!" Dr. Wilson cast another chastising look at the older Winchester.

"Sorry." Dean mumbled.

"I don't remember … anything … about that." Sam replied quietly. He was barely able to finish the sentence and his hand absentmindedly stroked over his throat as if that would lessen the pain. But what worried Dean the most was the defeated tone in his voice.

"What is the last thing you do remember before waking up here?" Dr. Wilson inquired.

Sam swallowed. He cast an apologizing look at Dean. " Having a beer … with my brother. We'd just … " He swallowed, wincing at the pain this small motion caused. "… come back from a diner."

Dean's chest tightened at this words. Had that really been just three months ago? It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

Dr. Wilson looked at Dean for confirmation and the older Winchester nodded quietly. "Yeah ..." He cleared his throat before he continued. "We went for a walk afterwards when we heard these strange noises coming out of the church. It was probably a stupid idea to go in there."

"It was a very courageous act, Mr. Gray. If other people had followed your example, that girl and the police officers might still be alive." Dr. Wilson replied sympathetically.

Sam looked like he'd throw up any moment.

Instinctively, Dean grabbed his arm and gave it a light squeeze. "Is that all for now? I think my brother could need some rest."

Dr. Wilson nodded. "There are still a few tests necessary, but they can wait until tomorrow." He smiled at Sam. "Don't worry, you'll be up and running in no time."

Sam forced himself to smile back, but stayed quiet. It was the most dishonest smile Dean had ever seen on his brother's face.

"Thanks." Dean replied for him.

Dean waited until the doctor had left the room before he turned to his brother. "How do you feel?" He asked quietly.

"Tired." Sam replied. He didn't look at Dean as he spoke, instead his eyes were focused on his hands which he had entangled tightly together.

Dean nodded. "You've been through a lot. Get some sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up."

At that Sam looked up at him. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then changed his mind and stayed quiet. He gave his brother a short nod and closed his eyes, turning his head away from Dean as he did so.

The older Winchester looked worriedly at his brother. Sam was far from okay. And he didn't buy that he was just tired. With everything that had happened ... Sam had won his fight against the demon, but he still looked defeated. And Dean didn't know how to fix that.

XXXXXXX

Dean sat quietly next to Sam's bed. His brother had his eyes closed, but Dean knew that he wasn't sleeping. Sam hadn't spoken much since he had woken up two days ago. In fact, since his initial talk with his doctor, he only replied to questions directly asked to him, his answers being only short and usually consisting of not more than one or two words. And most of the time he would fake sleep to escape any questions at all.

Sam's reluctance to participate in any conversation had his doctor worried that he might have suffered some kind of brain damage after all. He had also put him under light suicide watch because of the slit wrists - judging by Sam's current state of mind, he was afraid that Sam might try something similar again.

But Dean knew better; Sam wasn't suffering from brain damage and he wouldn't try to commit suicide (_because that was something Winchesters didn't do, no matter how much crap live would throw at them, they never gave up!) – _Sam was still struggling with the fact that he had been possessed for the last three months and that, through his hands, albeit against his will, many innocent lives had been taken.

But of course they couldn't share that kind of information with his doctor and so they played along until Sam would be fit enough to leave the hospital.

Which could take a while, because even after two days, Sam's condition hadn't improved much. He was still weak and only awake for short periods of time – it was hard to tell, really, since most of the time Sam refused to open his eyes even when he was awake.

They hadn't spoken about the last three months yet. Dean wasn't sure how much Sam remembered, but judging from the guilt that sometimes flickered through his brothers eyes he knew he must remember some of the things that happened.

With a sigh, Dean leaned back on his chair, emptying the cup of coffee that one of the nurses had brought him. Since he'd been a patient himself, they were a lot more attentive towards him; apparently he and Sam had become the number one talk on the ward since they had both woken up at the same time from comas that couldn't really be explained. One of the doctors even had wanted to write an article about them in some medical journal, but Bobby, usually a quiet and calm person, had yelled at him for so long that Dean didn't think he'd bother them again.

Now all he needed to worry about was getting Sam back to be his old self. Not an easy task as long as Sam refused to talk to him.

"Do I smell coffee?" Bobby asked as he stepped in the room. He fetched a chair from the corner and sat across from Dean next to Sam's bed.

"What can I say, the women love me." Dean grinned.

Bobby had complained constantly that not once had one of the nurses given him a cup of coffee while he had waited for the boys to wake up.

"Just admit it, you're stealing the good stuff from your brother and give him the crap they're selling for coffee in the cafeteria." Bobby smirked and playfully hit Sam on the leg. "You better watch this brother of yours."

Sam stiffened under the contact, his reaction telling both men that he was awake and aware of what was going on around him; he just wasn't ready to deal with it. It hurt Dean to see his brother so lost, so vulnerable without being able to help him. If Sam would just talk to him, let it all out like he always used to do, instead of keeping it all in. Now Dean understood how frustrated his brother must have felt about his own reluctance to talk after their father's death.

"I've been doing some more research last night." Bobby's voice interrupted Dean's thoughts.

"Yeah? What did you find out?" Dean asked, halfheartedly feigning interest. All he cared for these days was to get his brother back.

"This theory with Azazel impregnating women to..."

"Bobby!" Dean cut in sharply. "Not now. Not here!"

Bobby raised an eyebrow at the younger hunter. "Why not? This is of interest to all of us, right Sam?"

He glanced at the younger Winchester, waiting for some kind of reaction. Sam remained silent, his eyes closed. But Bobby saw his fists clench tightly around the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

The kid was hurting and Bobby would be damned if he'd just sit quietly by and do nothing to help him.

"We can talk about this later." Dean replied, barely restrained anger dripping from his voice.

The older Winchester was visibly hurting as well and as much as Bobby wanted to help the boys, he knew that in the end they could only help themselves. It had been like that since they were children. They were only all right as long as they knew that the other was too.

But sometimes they needed to be pushed in the right direction and at least that Bobby could do for them.

"I think we should talk about this right now." Bobby objected, his eyes fixed on the younger Winchester.

"Bobby ..."

"I think it's crap." Bobby stated. "At least as far as it concerns Sam."

"What?" Stunned Dean stared at the older hunter. "But I thought you said ..."

"I know what I said, Dean. But I don't think anymore that this is linked to your brother."

"You had one hell of a fight with Dad about this." Dean pointed out. "Shit, I was close to beat the crap out of you when you brought it up."

"Like that would have happened." Bobby smirked. He took off his hat and scratched his head. "Look, don't tell anyone, but even I'm wrong on occasion. Just like your Dad." Bobby added; he still had some pride after all.

"So what changed your mind?" Dean wanted to know.

"One of my contacts send me a text file. It's a translation of some old, Hebraic text. According to that, Azazel's Children, his _real _children, not the ones he paid a visit on their six months birthday like Sam, they had some special protection against possession. A demon tried to control them, bang! He died. And thanks to past events we know for sure that Sam can get possessed."

Dean didn't know what to say. Even though he had never outwardly admit it, inwardly he had been afraid that there might have been something to Bobby's theory; it would have explained so much. Sam's abilities, the things that had happened to them, the demon's plans with him.

Not that it would have made any difference - Sam was his brother and he would stay that until the day he died. Again.

"You think this text is the real thing?" Dean asked hoarsely after a moment.

"My source says it is and I know the guy good enough to know that when he says something's real than it's real."

"Good." Dean nodded and swallowed tightly. He felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. Or at least part of the weight. "I didn't believe it anyway."

Bobby nodded slowly. "Of course not. Now we just need to convince your brother."

Both men automatically looked at the younger Winchester, but Sam remained quiet, his eyes closed.

"Nothing's easier than that." Dean mumbled, looking helplessly at his brother.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to Kaz for beta reading. All mistakes are mine.**

* * *

_His fingers were wrapped around her neck, feeling the pulsating beat of her heart under the skin. Her pleading eyes, her whispers to spare her family, added to the joy he felt at slowly crushing the woman's windpipe and seeing the life in her eyes slowly going out. _

_Inhaling deeply, he took in the scent of blood and death in the air. _

"_Let go of her!" _

_The woman in front of him vanished, her body crumbling to dust through his hands and the light shining in through the blood spilled windows went dark. The ground beyond him opened and he fell, deeper and deeper into the darkness. Waves of terror rippled his body as screams accompanied his fall, screams of the people he had killed. Hands were reaching for him, sliding over his skin, trying to grab him, hold on to him. _

_But he kept falling into the darkness, always falling, never reaching the ground. _

With a start, Sam jerked up from sleep, a silent scream on his lips. A moment later he doubled over in pain, his arms pressed against his abdomen in a protective gesture. Panting, he sat hunched over on the bed, sweat dripping from his forehead.

It took several minutes for the pain to subside and for his mind to realize that he was safe. Not falling, but lying in a hospital bed, all alone. And safe.

Drawing in deep breaths, trying to calm himself, Sam sank back down into the softness of his pillow. His eyes wide open, he stared into the darkness that was only lessened by the small blinking lights from the monitors that surrounded his bed. Shivers ran through his body and no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn't stop.

With all his heart, Sam wished for his big brother to be at his side right now, to keep him safe and chase away the terrors of his nightmare, like he had done for most of his life.

But Dean had given in to Sam's pleas to stay the night in the motel. After a lot of cajoling, silent stares and puppy-dog eyes, Sam had eventually convinced his brother that the prospect of a warm, comfortable bed and a hot shower, that he knew Dean was in need of, would be better for him than sleeping in a plastic hospital chair by his brother's side.

Now he wished he hadn't.

He felt eyes staring at him from the shadows, boring into him, waiting, waiting for him … it took all of Sam's willpower to not give into the terror he felt deep inside, to not scream out for his brother. This was all in his head. In his mind, Sam knew that.

His heart was trying to convince him otherwise though.

_We're waiting …_

The shivers continued to ripple over him, his breathing was ragged, his heart beat too fast -feeding his fear - and closing his eyes wasn't an option. So Sam kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, ignoring the shadows around him, the whispers of the night (_they were just in his head!)_, concentrating on what his father had taught him. Telling himself that there was nothing to be afraid of. And waiting for the morning to come and with that his brother returning to his side.

We're waiting …

--SPN--

"Good Morning, Sammy." Dean smiled happily as he stepped into his brother's hospital room, two cups of hot, steaming coffee in his hands and a bag filled with bagels pressed under his arm. "Breakfast is served."

Dean felt good. He hated to admit it, but getting a good nights sleep in a real bed and enjoying a hot shower after waking up had done wonders to his spirit. Things didn't look half as bad anymore as they had done the day before. He was now convinced that no matter how hard the last three months had been to Sam and him, they would get through this. Together, as always. It might take some time, but in the end, the Winchester brothers would be back on the road, hunting down every evil son of a bitch that dared to come into their way.

After taking a long vacation first, of course, and finally seeing the better parts of their country. Taking some time off. That was exactly what they needed. In his mind, Dean had already started planning this road trip, so different from their usual one. And it had felt good.

Dean's spirits dampened considerably though when he saw his brother. Somehow Sam looked even paler than the day before, large, dark circles under his eyes. The look of relief shining through Sam's eyes at seeing his big brother didn't go unnoticed by Dean as well.

"Morning." Sam responded quietly, his eyes fixed on Dean, following him as he walked through the room until he sat down on the chair next to his bed.

"How'd you sleep last night?" Dean asked, placing the coffee and bag on the nightstand.

"Okay." Sam replied, his eyes downcast.

That combined with the overall tired expression on his brother's face told Dean all he needed to know.

"I can never sleep in a place like this either." He said, letting Sam know that he understood. "Here, this should make you feel better." Dean added, handing one of the coffee cups to his brother.

Sam gave him a half smile in return and gratefully accepted the offered coffee. "Thanks."

"I brought Bagels too." Dean grinned, pointing at the paper bag. If there was one thing he could count on it was Sam's love for bagels. He had practically grown up with them, their father never having been able to say no when a young Sam had looked up at him with pleading eyes, asking for a bagel in every single one of the million diners they had stopped for lunch over the years.

"Already had breakfast." Sam said. He was holding the coffee cup tightly in his hands, but had yet to take a sip of it.

"Hospital breakfast. You'll never get your strength back from that." Dean countered. He looked at Sam intently, waiting for any sign that his brother would change his mind.

"I'm not hungry. Sorry."

Dean did his best to hide his disappointment. "Well, you can always eat them later."

The brothers fell into silence, both of them drinking their coffee, lost in their own thoughts. While Dean drank his in big gulps, Sam only sipped at his, his hands starting to shake slightly after a few minutes. Not wanting Dean to see this, Sam put the coffee back on the nightstand, silently cursing his inability to even hold a coffee cup for longer than a few minutes these days. He hated being this weak!

Dean watched every movement that Sam made out of the corner of his eyes, but stayed quiet. Coffee and bagels obviously wasn't what his brother wanted. Well, he would just find something else tomorrow.

"The motel Bobby found is quiet nice actually. Considering that he's hardly on the road anymore, he still knows how to pick out the good ones." Dean said after a while, the silence having grated on his nerves for too long.

"Good." Sam replied, a forced smile on his lips.

"Yeah." Dean breathed out, impatience growing inside of him. "You're going to like it. As soon as you're off of all this machinery here, we'll spring you and you get to relax in a more comfy surrounding. The beds have magic fingers." He added grinning.

Sam only nodded, giving another fake smile, not saying anything in reply.

Frustrated, Dean drummed his fingers on the chair. This was the third day in a row that Sam refused to talk. And one of the reasons he had finally relented into staying the last night at the motel had been that he felt he couldn't take this for much longer.

Sam wasn't quiet. Sam talked. About everything. Dean knew his brother better than anyone else and if something was bothering him, he talked about it. Always. He might try to hide it from Dean for a while, but in the end it would always come out. Sam never stayed quiet for long. Not like this. Sam had never been like this.

And Dean was close to bursting apart. Now he understood how their Dad must have felt when Sam had given him the silent treatment after some of their more intense fights.

"Has the Doc been here today already?" Dean asked after another long moment of silence.

"Yeah, early this morning."

"Did he say anything new?" Dean inquired, barely holding in his frustration.

If Sam noticed it, he never showed it. "No, not really."

"_Not really_? What's that supposed to mean? He either said something or he didn't." Dean stated impatiently.

"Everything's the same." Sam replied after a moment of hesitation.

"Really." Dean looked at his brother thoughtfully. "So nothing new?"

"No." Sam shook his head slightly.

"If I talk to him, is he going to say the same?" Dean inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Sam only shrugged in reply. He slid down his bed until he lay on his back again, casting an apologetic glance at his brother. "I'm really tired."

Dean tensed, his hands pressed together tightly. Sam was doing it again, shutting him out, using his tiredness as an excuse to be left alone. His brother knew him well enough that Dean never had the heart to keep him from sleep. Because Sam looked tired and exhausted and he needed to rest.

But he also needed to talk. Dean needed him to talk. And he couldn't do that when he was sleeping, now could he?

Swallowing down his anger and frustration, Dean forced himself to stay calm. "Try to get some sleep, Sammy. You need your rest."

Some of the tension seemed to leave Sam's body at hearing his brother's approval – as if he really needed it. "You'll stay here?" He asked quietly.

Dean shrugged. "I'll try to track the Doc down. I want to know how you're _really _doing and as you won't tell me …"

Dean stopped when he saw a look of panic flash through Sam's eyes. Damn, the kid was hiding something. His worry was immediately spiked; he would track that doctor down, come hell or high water.

"I need to know what's wrong with you, Sammy. And if you don't want to tell me, then …" Dean's voice trailed off; he didn't think that he needed to finish his sentence for Sam to understand what he meant.

"Can't you just wait, until …" Sam stopped, his eyes looking pleadingly at his big brother.

"Until what? You fall asleep?" Dean flashed a smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. It vanished quickly though when he realized that that was exactly what Sam had meant. "Nightmares?" He asked.

Sam nodded, his cheeks blushing slightly.

Despite the circumstances, it felt actually good to see some color on Sam's face. Taking a deep breath, Dean leaned back in his chair.

"Fine, I'll stay. But only if you tell me everything Doc Wilson said. Then you can sleep for the rest of the day for all I care." Dean looked pointedly at his brother, making sure that Sam understood that he meant what he said.

Sam only hesitated a moment before he quickly listed everything the Doc had told him. "Vitals are still not good. Blood pressure is too low. I need to drink more and start eating solid food if I want to get out of here."

Dean looked at him dumbfounded for a moment, surprised to have gotten such an elaborate reply from his brother. "O-kay. Um, well, start with the bagels then." He swallowed, knowing that that was one stupid response to give, but it was all he had at the moment. And Bagels were solid food, right?

"I don't think he meant bagels." Sam replied dryly.

And for a short moment, Dean saw _Sam_, his little brother who always complained about too much unhealthy food in their lives. The moment was gone in a second, but to Dean it meant the world.

"Well, it's all I have at the moment. I'll get you a burger or something later the day." He countered. He picked up the bag with the bagels and threw it at Sam. "Here. Eat!"

"I'm really not hungry. Just tired. I can …"

"You can take your nap once that bag is empty. Older Brother Order." Dean cut in, not willing to let his brother out of this. If the doctor wanted Sam to eat solid food, then Dean would make him eat solid food. He might not be able to help with all of Sam's other injuries, but at least that he could do. He looked pointedly at Sam. "What are you waiting for?"

Sam knew when he had lost. Letting out a defeated sigh, he pulled himself back to a sitting position, wincing when the movement pulled at his stitches. Casting a displeased look at his brother, he took out one of the bagels and begrudgingly started eating.

--SPN--

Sam's sleep wasn't peaceful. Despite all the pain medication he was receiving, Sam's face was still lined with pain. And every so often the restless tossing of his head and the moans escaping his mouth would tell Dean that the nightmares were back. But that at least was something he could deal with. He had gotten good in making Sam feel safe, even in sleep. Years of practice had taken care of that. He would talk quietly to Sam, assuring him that he was safe, protected and that nothing would hurt him. And Sam would calm down every time.

It never lasted long though. The nightmares always came back.

Seeing this, Dean was glad that he had stayed. Despite his intentions, he had never left to find Doctor Wilson. Once Sam had fallen asleep, he hadn't been able to leave his side. It had been against his better judgment that he'd let Sam convince him to go back to the motel the night before. Dean had seen the result of his absence, however short it was. There was no way he was leaving his brother's bedside again until he found the reason behind Sam's silence and resolved it to his satisfaction. And until then, he would be here to chase away any nightmares that would haunt his brother.

Sighing, Dean eyed the bag with the bagels. Despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to make Sam eat them all. He had eaten one and Dean had seen that he had to practically force himself to eat the last half. For a short moment, he had even been afraid that Sam would throw it all up again. Maybe he should start with something more healthier.

Absentmindedly, he fiddled with his necklace, thinking about what he should do next. Force feed Sammy was one thing. But force him to open up? That was a whole other level. When it came to being stubborn, Sam was a true Winchester. But he needed to do something. Sam wouldn't get better if he didn't get enough sleep or didn't eat properly. He needed his strength back, but that wouldn't happen if he kept up his current attitude.

Dean cringed when he thought about Sam's wounds. The most dangerous ones in fact had been inflicted by him. His brother had been weakened enough by Tamiel, stabbing him with a knife hadn't exactly made things easier. Not that he had had another choice (though he kept asking himself if maybe a small cut to the arm would have had the same effect), but that didn't change the fact that he had hurt his brother. And possessed by a demon or not, this knowledge made him sick to the stomach.

That gave him an idea.

He hadn't talked about his guilt with Sam. Simply because he knew that Sam wasn't angry, wasn't blaming him. There was no reason to ask for forgiveness, yet Dean still thought he needed it.

Maybe he should confess a little of his guilt, open up to Sam before asking his brother to do the same to him.

It couldn't hurt. Could it?

Once Dean had reasoned through it and had made his mind up, he couldn't wait to actually do it. He stared at Sam intently, willing him to wake up.

But as always, Sam refused to just obey his will and stayed asleep. Dean had to wait until late into the afternoon before he got the chance to talk with his brother again.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N.: A huge thanks to Kaz for beta'reaing. All mistakes are mine. **

**Anne, I couldn't thank you personally, so I'm doing it this way. Thank you so much for your lovely feedback. It means a lot :) **

* * *

Intently Dean watched his brother as Sam looked at the hospital's tv. He knew that Sam wasn't really seeing what was being screened on the hospital's in house tv. He looked to be a thousand miles away, totally oblivious to what was happening around him. Like he was listening to something only he was privy to.

Dean knew the feeling well. It was all too easy to get lost in your own thoughts while trapped in the drabness of a hospital room. For this, he was glad that Sam had convinced him to stay the night at the motel – otherwise he would have gone nuts by now.

Dean would've loved to just watch the old action movie from the 60's together with Sam, making smug comments about the huge plot holes and bad stunt effects. But just like Sam, he wasn't able to keep his mind on the movie.

He'd planned to talk with Sam as soon as his brother woke up. That had been over an hour ago and still Dean hadn't found the courage to say what he wanted to say. Instead he rambled on about one random subject after the next.

"I could get us some pie." He cleared his throat. "I heard they have some awesome pie in the cafeteria downstairs. Much better than the coffee they sell."

"Dean, I ate all the cookies. Give me a break, okay?" Sam groaned.

Dean held up his hands in defense. "Okay, okay, I just thought I'd ask." He had went to buy the cookies after Sam had woken up. It had been his first attempt at avoiding his confession time before his rambling had started.

He really sucked at talking.

They fell into silence again, Sam closing his eyes and Dean tapping his fingers nervously on his leg.

He cursed at his inability to find the right words. How hard could it be? Confessing to Sam, opening up about his own guilt, get it all out in the open and then have Sam doing the same. It'd seemed so easy when he'd planned it a few hours ago.

Only now, he just couldn't get the right words to leave his mouth.

"I'm really starting to hate the color of these walls. They should give it a paint. Something yellow maybe. White is just too depressing. What do you think?" He inwardly kicked himself. Where had that come from?

Sam raised a brow. "You really want to talk about the wall's color?"

Dean exhaled heavily before he replied. "Not really, no."

Sam looked at him, waiting for Dean to continue.

Now or never, Dean thought. "I'm sorry."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "What for?"

"You know … stabbing you." Dean slightly tilted his head. "I could have killed you."

Sam tensed visibly. "I was about to kill you, so I'd say you were justified." He replied dryly.

"It wasn't you who tried to kill me." Dean pointed out.

"Whatever." Sam shrugged.

"It wasn't you and I knew that. I also knew I was running out of options, but that doesn't make me feel any less guilty."

"It's okay, Dean." Sam sighed. "I forgive you." He replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Okay." It was a start.

Dean waited a moment for Sam to say anything else, but his brother remained silent. Fine, Dean wasn't finished yet.

"I'm also sorry for putting you in that position in the first place."

Again Sam raised an eyebrow in question.

"You know, the Deal." Dean cleared his throat. Once this was over, he would never use the word Deal again. Ever!

"Wish you had thought about this before you brought me back."

"You're still pissed at me for that, huh?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam shook his head. "No, not really." He laughed quietly. It sounded too harsh and bitter to be true. "I wasn't exactly acting smarter than you."

"I always knew people were wrong when they called you the smart one. You fooled them good, Sammy." Dean grinned.

Sam gave him a small half-smile in return.

Dean took a deep breath and put on an earnest expression again. "I put us both in an impossible situation, Sam. And I'm sorry for that."

"I know why you did it." Sam replied in a hoarse voice. "No need to apologize."

Dean nodded slowly. "So you don't blame me for what happened?"

"No, of course not!" Sam stared at his brother in surprise.

"Well, then why are you blaming yourself?" Dean looked pointedly at him.

He could see how Sam immediately closed off again.

"Sam, none of what happened was your fault. You had no control over what that thing did." He tried again.

"Dean …"

"No, I want you to understand this! And I'm not gonna stop until you get it into your stubborn head! It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. It was the demon who did all those things." Dean inhaled deeply, waiting for his brother to reply.

Sam turned his head away, staring at the blank wall across from him.

"Sam." Dean waited. "Sam, look at me."

The younger Winchester closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing down the bile that was rising in his throat. He couldn't talk about this. Not now. There was just too much. Too much guilt, too much blame, too much of everything.

_You can make it stop._

"Sam!"

Sam opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. Slowly he turned back to Dean.

"You can't go on like this, Sammy." Dean said quietly. "Don't let that bastard win. Don't let this destroy you."

Sam swallowed, tears brimming in his eyes. He wanted to break down, right now. Just let it all out, tell Dean about the nightmares, everything. Let his big brother make things right again, like he had when they were still kids. Dean had always been able to fix everything.

He just had to open his mouth and let the words out.

But there was something inside of him stopping him. He just couldn't.

We're waiting for you …

Sam closed his eyes, trying to block out the things haunting him even when he was awake. "I'm trying, Dean. Just give me some time." He said quietly after a moment.

"All the time you need, Sammy. Just don't let this thing eat you up from inside. Talk to me." Dean looked at Sam earnestly, hoping his words got through to him.

"Since when are you all for talking?"

"Since I nearly lost you twice in one year." Dean replied in a hoarse voice.

Sam didn't reply anything to that. He just wanted it to stop.

_You can make it stop. _

_We're waiting … _

--SPN--

_He was standing in the shadows, watching the police officer walking down the aisle. He could see the other one staying behind, guarding the door. This amused him to no end. When would people learn that splitting up would inevitably end in their demise?_

_Not that staying together would save them. _

_He closed his eyes, concentrating on the officer's thoughts. The man was angry for wasting his time, time he should spend looking for the killer of an innocent teenager._

_He laughed quietly. The man wouldn't be angry for much longer. _

"_Don't worry, you just found him." He called out loud. _

_He watched the officer turn to him, saw the fear flash through his eyes before he was able to hide it. Oh, he would teach him real fear. _

"_Who are you?" The Officer asked. _

_He wanted to reply, wanted to give him his name. But suddenly the walls crumbled around him, the two officers disappeared, Caidance was gone … he was all alone. He opened his mouth to scream out his name, tell the world who he was … but something inside him stopped him. _

_And suddenly he didn't know who he was anymore. _

_The shadows started to encircle him, hands were reaching out of the dark, grabbing for him. Something was calling his name … was it his name? _

"_We're waiting for you …"_

_A moment later he could feel the hands on him. He froze. He wanted to run, but he couldn't move. There was nowhere to go. The shadows were all around him. _

_And then his throat constricted and he couldn't breathe anymore. _

Sam's eyes snapped open and he stared horrified at the dark ceiling above. It took him a few moments before he remembered to take in air. He wrapped his arms around himself to stop the shivers racking his body.

He glanced to the side, at his still sleeping brother. This nightmare had been too short or Sam too quiet while trapped in it to wake him up. At least one of them got a decent night's sleep.

He curled his hands into fists. He wanted this to stop. Every night, every freaking night he was haunted by these nightmares. He couldn't take it anymore.

The feeling of being trapped, being surrounded by the enemy wasn't going to leave him as long as he was here.

He had to get out. Just out and away.

He had to stop it!

_You can make it stop. _

--SPN--

Two days had passed since Dean had tried to get Sam to open up for the first time. Bobby was standing in front of his motel room, waiting for the older Winchester to open the door. It was still early in the morning, so he probably had woken the younger man. Which wouldn't really make this more easy.

He swore he would make Sam pay for putting him in this situation. He should have known that there was a reason Sam had pushed so hard for Dean to go back to sleep at the motel the last night. He just hadn't thought the younger man could be this sneaky. He should have known better.

Eventually, the door opened and a still half-asleep Dean Winchester stood in front of him.

"Bobby, what … do you know what time it is?" He complained.

"Get dressed. Sam called. We gotta pick him up." Bobby had decided that to get over this quickly was the best way to go with it.

Dean was on immediate alert, all signs of tiredness gone. "What? What happened? Is he okay?"

"He's bored to death, apparently. He signed an AMA and is waiting for us to get him." Bobby explained.

"What the hell?" Dean stared at Bobby incredulous. His eyes narrowed. "I'm gonna kill him."

He shut the door close in front of Bobby and the older man went back to wait by his car. He wouldn't think of getting between the brothers in this. He had given up playing referee between them a long time ago. And he kinda felt just like Dean about Sam's decision to leave the hospital. The kid was still too damn weak and far from being his own self. Bobby would have preferred to see Sam stay at least as long as it would take for his physical wounds to heal.

He should have known that this was too much to ask from a Winchester.

Five minutes later, Dean came rushing out of the door, looking pissed like hell. Bobby rolled his eyes. This would be one fun ride to the hospital and back.

"Your car or mine?" He asked.

Dean only shot him an angry glare as he stomped to the Impala. Bobby had just barely enough time to follow him and close the passenger door before Dean started the engine and veered the car towards the hospital.

--SPN--

"Sam, you stupid, idiotic, son of a bitch, pain in the ass little brother! Get back into bed, now!" Dean didn't waste any time as he stormed into his brother's hospital room.

Sam obviously had expected as much; Bobby figured there was a reason the younger Winchester had called him instead of his brother. Dean had barely finished his tirade, when Sam got up from the bed, already fully dressed. He was moving slowly enough to show both men that he was still in too much pain, and steadying himself with one hand on the nightstand so not to sway too much.

"Good Morning to you too." He smirked, once he was steady again. He gave a small smile to Bobby. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem." Bobby nodded.

Dean cast him an angry glare, telling Bobby that it was best to probably stay quiet.

"You want me to wait outside?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Just stay out of this." Dean growled.

Bobby held his hands up, showing that he really wasn't planning to get in between them.

"Dean, relax. It's better this way." Sam said quietly. He grabbed his bag that contained the few things Dean had brought him for his stay in the hospital and took a few steps away from the bed.

Dean was immediately at his side, taking the bag from him and effectively stopping him from taking another step.

"Better? How is leaving the hospital not fully recovered better? Huh?" He hissed.

"The longer we stay, the bigger the chances are that someone might find us. I'd rather keep the FBI believing we're dead." Sam replied.

Dean stared at him incredulously. This hadn't even crossed his mind. "Sam, you've been in here for the better of three weeks. If they haven't caught up with us now, I don't think they will anymore. They stopped looking."

Sam sighed quietly. "I just need to get out of here. Okay?"

He looked pleadingly at his brother and Dean cursed his inability to say no to Sam when he gave him that look.

"It's too early." He tried.

"I really, really need to get out of here. Please." Sam pleaded.

He looked so desperate in that moment, that neither of the two men had the heart to decline him anything right now.

So Dean relented. "Okay, fine. But … you do what I say, you get that? You'll rest when I say, you'll eat when I say, you follow my orders without objection. Understood?"

Sam gave him a small smile. "Yes, Sir."

"Cut the sir crap. I'm not in the mood for this. And don't even try to get my sympathy when you get worse again."

"I won't." Sam looked at him so grateful that it was hard for Dean to stay angry.

"Come on then." He growled. He shouldered the bag on his left shoulder and took Sam's arm to lead him outside.

Sam opened his mouth to object (he could walk on his own!), but one look from his brother made him stay silent. He wasn't going to risk being forced back into that cursed hospital bed. It had given him enough nightmares for a lifetime.

Sam was convinced that as soon as he'd sleep in a familiar surrounding – and any motel room in this country counted as familiar by now – he would get better, be able to leave all of this behind him. And then the nightmares would stop.

_It would all stop. _

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N.: Thanks to Kaz for beta reading. All mistakes are mine. **

* * *

Sam awoke to the smell of coffee; real, fresh brewed coffee, not the one he had to force down since waking up in the hospital. The soft mattress he was lying on was another thing that told him he wasn't at the hospital anymore. When he opened his eyes, he saw old waterstains on the ceiling. Not the clinical white he had gotten used to over the last few days.

He didn't quite remember much about the motel he was in. The last thing he knew was stepping into their room and stumbling towards the bed. He must have crashed immediately, because he didn't remember anything else after that.

"Good morning." Dean greeted him.

Sam lifted himself up and supported his weight with his elbows. Blinking and wiping the last of the sleep out of his eyes, he looked at his brother.

"Morning." He replied in a sleep filled voice. "Is that coffee?"

Dean grinned. "You bet. There's a Starbucks only five minutes from here. It's exactly as you like it; lots of cream, milk and sugar, hardly any coffee. I made them fill it in a thermos flask, because I didn't know when you'd wake up."

A grateful smile spread over Sam's face as he accepted the coffee. "Thanks. What time is it?"

"Half past five." Dean replied.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "In the afternoon?"

Dean laughed at his brother's astonished face. "You really think I'd be up that early - with coffee - in the morning?"

"Man, I hadn't really planned to sleep through the whole day now that I'm finally out. Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you need the sleep. You can say good bye to the idea that I'm letting you run around all day just because you're out of hospital." Dean gave him his patented older brother stare. "Plus you didn't have a single nightmare, so why should I have disturbed you?"

Sam's smile returned. No nightmares. Dean was right; he had slept through most of the day without any of the dark memories from the last three months to come back and haunt him. Leaving the hospital had been the right decision after all, no matter how much it had infuriated his brother.

Things would get better from now on, Sam was convinced of that.

"Is there a diner nearby?" He asked after having emptied his coffee.

"A diner?" Dean raised a brow. "Sam, what part of staying in bed and not running around didn't you understand? If you're hungry, we'll just order a pizza."

"Pizza?"

"Don't give me that look." Dean glared at him warningly. "We're not leaving this room until …"

"Until when?"

"Until I say so." Dean finished.

"Dean, I'm not …"

A knock on the door interrupted Sam from going on. Dean cast him a last glare before opening the door.

"Bobby, hey."

"Hey, boys. Sam, good to see you awake." The older hunter greeted them.

"Bobby, hi. We were just thinking of what to get for dinner." Sam smiled innocently.

"Perfect timing. I was just about to invite you for a last meal to the motel's restaurant. I'm planning to go home right after." Bobby replied.

"You're going back already?" Sam asked, barely hiding his disappointment.

"Have to return at some point." Bobby shrugged.

"We …" Dean hesitated, biting his lip. "We were just about to order some pizza."

"Oh, I've had enough of that fast food crap. We're going to eat something decent." Bobby countered immediately.

Sam grinned.

"We have to get that boy back to his old strength, right?" The older hunter continued.

"Right." Sam agreed, quickly grabbing his jacket. "Let's go. I'm starving."

He followed Bobby outside before Dean had a chance to object. The older Winchester glared angrily at the two men's retreating backs. "I'll let you get away with this once, Sammy …" He mumbled. "Just wait for tomorrow."

--SPN--

Sam sat quietly at the table, staring at the plate of food in front of him and trying to concentrate on what Dean and Bobby were talking about. His thoughts kept drifting away from the conversation.

Going out for dinner had sounded like a great idea at first and Sam had been excited to just get out, breathe fresh air and see other people than Dean, Bobby, doctors and nurses. But now that he was here, away from what he'd become used to, and surrounded by people who didn't care about his latest vitals, he felt sick. He knew it was ridiculous, but he had the feeling that everyone around him was staring at him, watching his every move. As if they knew exactly what he had done.

And the more he tried not to think about it, the more the memories came back.

The screams of the people he had killed.

Their pleas.

The horror in their eyes when they realized what he was.

"Sam."

The blood on his hands.

"Sam!"

The scent of death in the air.

The power surging through him.

"SAM!"

Sam's head jerked up when Dean's voice finally reached through to him.

"Hm?"

"You okay?" Dean looked worried at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all." Sam replied. He tightened his grip around the glass in his hand, willing those memories to disappear. Instead they only got worse.

"You want to get back to the room?

"No. No, it's … it's okay." Sam forced himself to smile.

"We could take the food to the room." Bobby suggested.

"I'm fine, really. Being tired won't kill me." Sam pointed out dryly.

"You sure?" Dean asked, still not satisfied.

"Yes." To prove his point, Sam took a big bite from his burger. He felt like throwing up the second he swallowed it. He forced another fake smile on his face, doing his best to keep his brother from picking up on it.

He sighed, relieved that his ruse had worked when Dean returned to his conversation with Bobby.

He took a long swig of water to swallow down the taste of bile in his mouth. Again he tried to listen to the two other men, but the memories of the last three months kept coming back to him.

He heard the screams.

_Stop it!_

He kept reminding himself that it hadn't been him doing all this. Just his body, not him. Not him. But there was this darkness inside of him and he knew that it hadn't been there before. He didn't know how to get rid of it.

He saw the fear in their eyes.

_Stop it! _

Sam wanted to scream it out to the world, let it all out. Instead he repeated the words in his mind, making them his own personal mantra.

He felt their blood on his hands.

_Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!_

And then something snapped inside of him and the memories stopped. Just like that they were gone. At the same moment, the glass he was holding splintered into a dozen little pieces.

Sam stared at the broken glass in front of him, the water dripping off the table. A moment later he raised his head and met the surprised eyes of Dean and Bobby.

"S-sorry." He mumbled.

"So much for being tired." Dean laughed nervously. He quickly fetched a few napkins and swapped down the water. "That are some crappy glasses they have here. We're probably lucky we didn't swallow anything."

"Yeah." Sam cleared his throat. "I, um, I think I get back to the room. Sorry. Bobby, thanks … for everything."

"Don't mention it." Bobby smiled.

"You sure you're all right?" Dean asked worried, ready to jump up and follow his brother outside.

"Yes. I'll just lie down and sleep. You're right, I do still need to rest." He gave the two men another forced smile.

He and Bobby shook hands and after promising to stay in touch, Sam left for his room. There were no haunting memories following him. It was just him. And a growing darkness that he couldn't explain. It should worry him. But it kept the memories away and he just felt grateful for that.

He would deal with what it meant later.

--SPN--

"Bobby, thanks for everything, man. I … I don't know what I would have done without you."

Dean and Bobby stood in the parking lot in front of the old tow truck, packing the last of Bobby's things. They hadn't stayed long after Sam had left, Dean eager to get back to his brother's side. Despite Sam's reassurances that he was fine, Dean wasn't convinced, especially not after what had happened shortly before he had left. It was more than just sheer exhaustion, Dean was sure of that. It worried him, yet he didn't regret going out for dinner. He had enjoyed spending some quality time with Sam and Bobby and even if it hadn't done much to lighten up his brother's spirits, he had at least gotten some food into him without having to force feed his brother. Maybe they would come back here tomorrow. He was glad Bobby had coaxed him into coming here.

Just another thing he owed Bobby Singer for.

"Don't mention it. It's what friends are for." Bobby shrugged the sentiment off.

Dean laughed softly. "Not friends, old man. Family."

Bobby puffed, took off his cap and scratched his head. The slight blush on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Yeah, well …" He cleared his throat. "You boys be careful, all right? You need anything, don't hesitate to call. And if you're in the area …"

"We'll sure come by." Dean smiled.

"Don't forget." Bobby looked at him pointedly and took the hand Dean offered to shake. "Take care of that brother of yours."

"You know I will."

It felt strange for Dean, watching Bobby drive away. He had gotten so used to the older man's presence at his side over the last few months. What he had said was true – he really didn't know how he would have survived the past few months without him.

Once Bobby's car was out of sight, Dean returned to the motel room. As expected, Sam was lying in bed already, deep asleep. Small lines of pain etched his forehead; apparently dinner had not only exhausted his brother, but had brought the pain back too. Almost automatically, Dean took the bottle of painkillers out of the med kit and placed it on the nightstand, next to a glass of water.

It was only as he bend down to put the glass down that he noticed the bleeding cut on the side of Sam's head, almost hidden by his hair.

"What …?"

Before Dean even had a chance to grasp what he was seeing, he felt himself being flung through the room, his back connecting hard with the wooden wall.

"Glad you finally joined us, Dean."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N.: Many, many thanks to Kaz who is an awesome beta!**

* * *

"Glad you finally joined us, Dean."

The unfamiliar, cold voice send shivers down Dean's spine. Suppressing a groan, he picked himself up from the floor, his eyes quickly scanning the room.

It only took him a moment to spot the man standing in the corner across the room, his black eyes raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Dean glanced over to Sam who still lay unmoving on the bed.

"What did you do to him?" Dean asked through clenched teeth.

"Don't worry, just a soft hit to the head. I'm sure he's had worse." The demon laughed. "Actually, he looks like he's had worse. Tamiel was always the best at breaking people."

"Sam's not broken." Dean replied, anger dripping from his voice.

"No, of course not." The demon smirked.

"What do you want?"

The demon grinned viciously. "What we all want … revenge. Isn't that what drives us all?"

"Revenge? What for? Have we met before?" Dean forced a grin on his face. "Have I sent your sorry ass back to hell?"

"Dean Winchester, always the smart ass you're known for. I have to say, you don't disappoint."

Dean saw Sam stirring on the bed and a wave of relief rushed through him. Sam wasn't dead!

"Tamiel was my brother. You killed him." The demon went on, his smile having vanished from his eyes and instead was replaced with pure hate.

"This is another family revenge thing? You know, this is starting to get old." Dean smirked.

The demon's grin reappeared and a second later Dean doubled over in pain - pain so excruciating that it felt hard to breath. He bit his lips to stop a scream from coming out.

"Dean?"

Through a pain filled cloud, he heard Sam calling for him. He forced himself to look up and could see Sam sitting on the bed, looking at him with confused eyes.

"Stay there, Sammy." Dean choked out.

"Morning, sunshine." The demon said happily.

Sam's head snapped towards him and his eyes widened in shock. "Who are you?"

"Always with the questions." The man shook his head. "Just call me Steve."

"Steve?" Dean picked himself up from the floor, using the wall to steady himself. "From all the names you can choose from, you pick Steve?"

"Dean." Sam glared at him to shut up.

Dean really wished he could because his talking usually brought him more pain than necessary. The problem was he wasn't going to let a demon stop him from saying what came to his mind. "That's lame, man."

His head slapped against the wall the moment the last word had left his mouth.

"Leave him alone." Sam yelled.

"Make me." Steve whispered viciously.

Blinking away the stars dancing in front of his eyes, Dean frowned at the demon. "You want revenge for your brother's death? Take it out on me. Let Sam go. He had nothing to do with it."

"Dean!"

"But having just one of you here is only half as much fun." Steve smirked. "Watching you two sacrificing yourself for each other is just so amusing."

He waved his hand and Dean found himself flying through the room again, colliding full force with the opposite wall. Sam lunged forward at the demon, but he hadn't even made two steps before he was flung backward and thrown against the wall Dean had been pinned to just moments ago.

"You son of a bitch." Dean groaned. "I'll kill you."

"You can try." Steve mocked him.

Dean shot him an angry glare before his eyes went for his brother. "Sam, you okay?"

"Yeah." Sam breathed out, slowly picking himself up from the floor.

"Don't worry, Sammy is not the one I'm planning to hurt today." Steve smiled viciously.

Before either of the brothers had a chance to react, Sam found himself pinned to the wall again, unable to move. Dean was hit with the full force of the demon's anger as one wave of pain after the next rolled over him. It didn't take long before he couldn't stop himself anymore from screaming out loud.

"Stop it!" Sam yelled, watching horrified how his brother lay curled up on the floor, his screams of pain ringing in his ears.

Steve laughed. "Make me." He said, daring the younger Winchesters.

Sam felt the anger rising inside of him – and with it, something else. Something dark, buried deep within him. He remembered his abilities and Tamiel using them. Back then, Sam had done his best to keep him back, to make it difficult for the demon inside of him to fully access and use his powers.

There was no need for this now. If he only could … if he knew how he could kill the bastard, make him pay for what he was doing. He could save Dean.

"Come on, Sammy, what are you waiting for?" Steve teased him. "Time to save your big brother."

Dean's screams intensified and Sam didn't think his brother would be able to take much more. And he couldn't lose him. Not after everything. Not like this.

"You're going to regret this." He hissed.

Steve only kept smiling.

Sam closed his eyes and concentrated on that dark place he felt inside of him ever since he had woken up. He felt the power inside him, just waiting to be let loose.

And then it suddenly felt like in the diner, when he made the memories stop haunting him. It was like a switch turned on and he could feel his abilities, all of them, surging through him and waiting to be used. He knew what he had to do.

He opened his eyes and glared at the demon. "Let my brother go."

Steve laughed in response and send another wave of pain in Dean's direction.

"Let. My. Brother. Go." Sam repeated slowly, his voice low.

Steve raised an eyebrow in surprise when his body obeyed to Sam's command against his will. He released Dean from his invisible grip and the older Winchester lay panting on the floor, his arms wrapped around his body to protect himself.

"I'm going to kill you." Sam growled.

"Sam …" Dean whispered.

The surprise in Steve's eyes vanished when he realized the change in the man before him. Understanding dawned on him and a knowing smile played on his lips. "Go ahead then."

Sam didn't hesitate any longer. Within seconds, the demon flew through the room, hitting the wall hard. It didn't take long before Steve started screaming. Blood started coming out of his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. His screams increased and Dean begged Sam to stop.

Sam didn't hear him. He kept taking out his revenge. And it felt so good, hearing the demon's painful screams, watching him suffer in front of him. He was doing this. Finally, he had the strength to pay back what had been done to him, to Dean, hell, his whole family, everyone he had ever loved! He would make them all pay, one after the other.

Once he was finished with the demon, Steve slid to the ground in a bloody pool, not moving.

Sam didn't have to check to know that he was dead. And so was the demon inside of him.

He trembled slightly, overcome by the powers pounding through his veins. He took a few deep breaths, relishing in the feeling.

He felt free. For the first time in years, no, since he could remember, he felt completely free.

"Sam?"

Dean's weak voice finally reached through to Sam and he quickly walked up to his brother, kneeling beside him.

"You okay?" He asked. He never noticed the absence of real worry in his voice.

"I'm super." Dean groaned. "Help me up."

Sam grabbed his arm and helped him to the bed, his grasp rough and tighter than necessary.

"What happened?" Dean asked, once he caught his breath again.

"I killed him." Sam replied, pride swinging in his voice. It wasn't every day that he got to save his big brother; usually it was the other way around.

Well, those days were over now.

"How?" Dean looked at him confused. His eyes went to the dead body on the floor. They widened in shock at the bloody figure. Sam had done this?

"I finally figured it out, Dean."

"Figured out what?" Dean frowned.

"How to use my abilities. It's awesome, man. The things I can do … and feel. I don't even have any pain anymore. It's like this freaking knife wound isn't even there."

Dean's frown intensified. "You used your abilities? Are you crazy?"

"Crazy?" Sam stared at his brother, the anger once again rising inside of him. "He would have killed you if I hadn't done anything. You would have preferred if I had just stood by and let him go on like that?"

"Yes!" Dean exhaled frustrated and shook his head. "No, of course not. But … Sam, this is dangerous. You know what could happen."

"Nothing happened. I'm fine." He pointed at Dean. "It's you who got beaten up."

"I'm okay. Just got a bit banged up." He winced when he took a too deep breath. He looked sternly at his brother. "Just don't do it again, okay? Remember what it did to Jake? And Ava?"

"Believe me, I'll never forget. But I'm not like them." Sam shook his head, willing his brother to believe him, to believe _in_ him. "I can control this."

"I bet that's what they thought too." Dean countered. He tried to get up from the bed, but his legs gave away the second he stood upright.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Why don't you just lie down and take a break for a moment?"

He bent down and helped Dean back on the bed again. He wondered slightly that he wasn't worried about his brother more than he was. He knew he should. Dean had gotten hurt badly. Yet he felt nothing. Only impatience at his brother's reluctance to admit that he had done good.

"You need anything?" He asked, pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Painkillers." Dean groaned, lying back on the bed.

Sam puffed. "On their way."

A knock on the door had both brothers on alert immediately. Dean sat up as fast as possible, reaching for the gun under his pillow.

Sam raised a brow in question as he walked towards the door. Dean shrugged. Neither of them expected a visitor. And Bobby wouldn't have come back without having called before.

Slowly, Sam opened the door.

"Ruby!" He called out surprised when he saw the woman standing in front of him.

"Oh great." Dean groaned, putting the gun down. "Just what we need now. More demons."

"Hello Samuel." Ruby smiled. "May I come in?"

"Sure." Sam replied, frowning at her using his full name.

"Dean, you look like crap." She smirked once she was inside.

"Thanks. So do you." Dean quipped.

Ruby smiled and then turned her attention back to Sam. "It looks like you guys had some kind of trouble here."

"Yeah, well …" Sam shrugged.

"You're lucky Steve there …." She pointed at the dead body on the ground. "…. took precautions so that your screams wouldn't be heard throughout the motel."

"You knew what was happening here?" Dean asked, shooting accusing looks at her.

"Don't get all upset. I knew you could handle things. Or at least Sam could." She added with a raised brow at Dean's injuries.

"Then what are you doing here?" Dean wanted to know. The anger made him forget his injuries and the pain for the moment. He wanted that bitch out. He needed time alone with Sam.

_I'm here to obey your orders, Samuel._

Sam's head snapped up when he heard Ruby's voice in his mind. A familiar voice.

The same voice he had heard since waking up.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by." Ruby smirked, still looking at Dean.

Sam stared at her incredulous. "What are you talking about?"

She turned to him, bowing her head slightly.

_You have risen to be our new leader, Samuel. We'll obey your orders._

"It's what friends do, isn't it?" She said aloud.

"No." Sam called out, taking a step back.

"No?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Sammy's right, we're not exactly friends." Dean added.

Ruby turned to him, a smile playing on her lips. It immediately raised Dean's suspicions.

"What are you up to?" He asked.

_Think about it, Sam. All demons, doing what you command. _

"Shut up!" Sam yelled.

"Sam? What's wrong?" Dean was up to his feet in a moment, his hand tightened around his gun.

_You can save the world._

Sam didn't even notice that Dean had gotten up, all his attention was on Ruby now.

_You can save Dean._

Sam stilled.

"It's all going to be all right." Ruby said quietly.

"This has been your plan all along, hasn't it?" Sam asked.

"What plan?" Dean demanded to know.

Ruby smiled. It really had all been too easy. Her plan couldn't have worked any better. She didn't even had to possess Bela to convince her to give Sam a fake gun. A little bit of help getting her out of her Deal and she was more than willing to help. Watching Sam while being possessed had been fun, like seeing the future leader raise before his time. She had felt when Sam had been ready. Giving Dean the knife, making him use it just by giving small hints that it might save his brother, had been the easiest part. Staying close enough to Sam to prepare him for the last stage, whispering her words into his mind, that had been more difficult. Bobby and Dean were both experienced hunters and hiding from them hadn't been easy.

But in the end it all had worked out for the best. And now Sam was ready to lead the demons to war. And she would be his second in command, always at his side. This was way better than anything Tamiel had ever been able to offer her.

"I've watched you grown with your abilities, Sam. You always had it in you." She smiled. "You just needed to accept who you really are."

"Would someone please tell me what you're talking about?" Dean asked angry.

"Dean, it's okay." Sam held up a hand, motioning Dean to stay quiet. His eyes stayed fixed on Ruby. "You sent Steve?"

"I knew you would beat him. A sacrifice for the greater good." She shrugged.

"You back-stabbing, evil bitch!" Dean cursed.

Ruby ignored him, instead her smile widened as she looked at Sam. "Are you willing to accept your destiny?"

"Destiny?" Dean exclaimed.

"Save the world?" Sam asked.

"Save the world?" Dean repeated, sounding much less impressed than Sam. "What is that crap?"

_Don't listen to him, Samuel. He'll never understand. He can't. _

Sam frowned, ready to object.

_He's a hunter through and through. It's impossible for him to understand. You know that. Like father, like son._

Sam nodded slowly. He knew it was true. "Dean …" Sam finally turned to his brother. "I have to do this."

"Do what?"

A smile crept on Sam's face when he realized what he had to do. That Ruby was right. The darkness he had felt inside … he could use it for something good. He could fight the evil in him. He wouldn't give in like Jake and Ava.

"Azazel wanted me to lead his army. Well, that's what I'm going to do." He laughed quietly. "Only not quite as he planned me to do it."

Dean's eyes widened in shock. "Sam, what … Are you crazy?"

Sam laughed. "That's what I thought. Ever since I woke up, I thought I was losing my mind. I never realized … This is who I am."

"No." Dean shook his head. "No, it's not. You're not some demon army leader. You're my brother. You're a hunter."

"Dean …"

"No, Sam! You don't lead the bastards, you kill them. That's the only way to stop them."

"I told you he wouldn't understand." Ruby said.

"Shut up, bitch!" Dean yelled. He raised his gun and pointed it at the demon's head.

"Dean!"

"You know you can't kill me." Ruby smirked.

"I killed Tamiel. And Azazel. And a whole bunch of other demons. What makes you think I won't kill you?"

"Dean, put the gun down!" Sam ordered.

Dean lowered his arm and the gun fell to the ground. Shocked the older Winchester stared at his brother.

"Did you just …"

"I'm sorry, but this is exactly what I'm trying to stop. No more unnecessary bloodshed." Sam said.

"By using your mind tricks on _me_? Your own brother?" Dean's heart sank when he saw not a single trace of remorse in Sam's eyes. Only cold determination.

"Whatever it takes." Sam replied.

Dean shivered. This wasn't happening. "Look, let's … let's think this through, okay? We drive to Bobby, let's see what he has to say."

"Bobby won't understand, Dean. He's just like …" He hesitated and his voice softened. "He's just like you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You'll never understand. I'm sorry." Sam added quietly.

He didn't look sorry.

He didn't feel sorry.

He only felt free. And ready to take on the world.

"Sam …"

"It's time to go, Samuel." Ruby said quietly.

Sam looked at her. "I thought I was the one giving the orders."

"Of course." Ruby bowed her head, a playful smile on her lips.

Sam turned back to Dean. "You should call Bobby. Someone should look after your wounds."

Dean looked surprised. "You're just going to leave me here?"

Sam shrugged. "You'll survive."

"Sam …" His voice hitched as he stared at the man in front of him. This wasn't Sam. Not _his _Sam. "Please, don't … just …"

"With the time, you'll see this is the right way. The only way." Sam cut in before Dean could go on.

He looked at Dean with eyes that were bare of any emotion. Like Sam was already gone.

"Good bye, Dean."

Dean shook his head, opening his mouth to hold his brother back, but no words were coming out.

When Sam stepped out of the room, followed by Ruby, Dean's legs gave in and he sagged on the ground.

He'd lost Sam.

--SPN--

It took less than a week for the first rumors of the new leader of the demon army to come in. Dean was staying at Bobby's place, having not trusted himself to look after his injuries himself. He knew he had been wounded badly. And he hadn't wanted to be alone.

Not again.

It was Bobby who told him. A group of demons, lead by their new leader, had raided a small town in Nebraska. Hundreds of people had died. They had checked on it immediately; most of the dead had a history of crime, some worse, some less bad than others. A few had been nothing but innocents though - innocent victims in a war they didn't even know about. Sam had started his mission to save the world.

In the ways of a demon.

And Dean knew that he had lost – had _failed_. There was no way back now. No magic weapon, no deal that would give him his brother back.

"_He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered; and that if I couldn't, I'd... That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy."_

Dean looked up at Bobby who was waiting for him at the door. He gave a short nod, packed his gun and stood up.

"Let's go."

The end.


End file.
